the adventures of one who is treasured by so many the really thoughtful boy

For friends who are still faithfully checking (thank you!), I have created another space as an extension to this site.

Do visit us by the waters.

Disciplining Emeth is most difficult for me. When Emeth cries during his time-outs, Hans sometimes finds his wife curled up on the bed, crying. My poor husband, he is a courageous man of principle, having to put up with a weeping household.

I tend to make excuses for Emeth when he demands attention. He is hungry, or sleepy, or hot, or such and such. We try our best to amend these situations and attend to his needs, of course we do. More times than I would like to admit, however, he is simply acting out of his self-centered nature. He is being bad, something I do not like to believe.

I tend to blame myself. Is it his feeding schedule or his sleeping habits? Did I miss a step? Should I have done this? Shouldn't I have done that? When I was little, I would often break my toys and trinkets. When it comes to growing plants, I have the black fingers of death. The fault is mine, I tell myself, he should not be punished. I know the crookedness of my own heart and I know my imperfections. Of course this child is doing wrong, what would one expect? His parents are wrong in all kinds of ways. My fear of breaking him and damaging him sometimes paralyzes me from fulfilling my responsibility--to instruct him to walk the straight path, to distinguish between right and wrong.

Hans made a comment a while ago that brings true comfort. In the most loving way, he reminds me my child is already broken, there is only One who can heal him.

Emeth is able to understand what is expected of him and he is learning to follow instructions, albeit at the level of a 13-month old baby. By grace, fruits do come with discipline and the setting of boundaries. Kisses and dancing follows repentance; quietness leads to embrace. These are always sweet and precious. As we return to him, the joy of reunion is greater on the part of his parents, just as the pain of separation is deeper. He is happy that he is no longer alone, whereas we rejoice because our little boy is learning to understand.

These things contribute to making the process easier and less tearful for all of us.

it has been such a joy for us to watch emeth.
there is a lot to learn from this little soul
who invaded our lives a little over a year ago.

he watches everyone and everything
with such seriousness and curiosity
before he breaks into a smile.

it speaks, even if he does not.
it says, " i like you."
it makes people happy.

he is so dependent,
so trusting, so hopeful.
i want to be like that.

he thrives on claps,
assurance, and laughter.
i wish to learn with such ease.

his list of best things in life
are not things.

hugs. kisses. tickles.
silly tunes. dancing. baths.
words. faces. light.

O, to be unashamed!
to play all day!
to see all things new

when i grow up,
i want to be.

a quick note as i am *trying* to make some progress on this paper (ugh!):

as we were lying in bed before tucking emeth in tonight, he got really excited about the window. recently, he learned to point at objects he wants to show us. so there he was, pointing at the window with his little index finger exclaiming, "dow! dow!" suddenly, he pushed himself up and stood. in between hans and me. still pointing. still making proclamations. for what seemed like many. long. seconds.

he has been standing for the past few weeks, but needs something to push himself to the standing position, and hands-off merely for a few seconds.

note to self for the years to come:
i was so happy right then, not so much because he was learning to stand on his own, but that we were all together when it happened. i celebrated by planting a big kiss on hans' cheek.

...was the description of my fluttering heart towards my "gentleman-friend" (now my husband whose grace I perpetually covet for my idiosyncratic tendencies such as refusing to call him my "boyfriend"). This gentleman was familiar yet mysterious. He was like and unlike me. Our conversations were interesting and effortless. The kind of friend, I thought at the time, who would make a fine traveling companion. I am glad to say that I was right.

Lately, this phrase is a apt description for yet another sentiment, though of an entirely different genre.

Emeth started saying "mama" about two months ago now. He learned it while we were teaching him not to cry for attention but rather say "mama, please" or "daddy, please." These passed two weeks, he has been trying to say "daddy" but right now it sounds more like "daa-chi" along with a big grin and slobber.

"Mama" has now become a multi-purpose word. He sings it happily in his high-pitch voice while taking a stroll in his crib. We hear it in between cries and sobs when he wakes at night. He pronounces it with an opened mouth when he wants more of the skin on Chinese dumplings (guo tei). When he is startled at a fall, this is the magic word that brings people to his side. The magic may fail sometimes, such as when he chants it stubbornly demanding attention. Yet sometimes sweetly and with charm, he calls us to himself; his tiny hands held out and chubby legs wobbling.

Strangely wonderful, wonderfully strange.

(purple) rubber duckie,
you're the one,
you make bath time
lots of fun.
(purple) rubber duckie,
I'm awfully fond of you.


o where is my (silicon) tooth brush?
o where is my (silicon) tooth brush?
o where, o where,
o where, o where,
o where, o where...
is my (silicon) tooth brush?

I am ten months going on eleven months,
I know that I'm naive.
People I meet may tell me I'm sweet,
And willingly I believe.

I am ten months going on eleven months,
Curious as a bee.
Sharpness of metals, heat of the kettle,
What do I know of these.

Generous with my smiles am I
To face my world of fans,
Whimpering, crying, and sad am I
When I am left alone in my play pen.

I need someone bigger and taller,
Play with me, change me, feed me.
You look like a pretty friendly person,
Would you please take care of me?

Let me be the first to admit that I am not one who can stand much physical discomfort. When I first expressed my desire for a natural birth, Hans was a little worried. As I have stated in another post, one finds oneself willing to make exceptions, no matter how difficult, for the object of one's affections. We wanted to give our little person a good beginning, at least to the best of our knowledge and capabilities. This is why love is a powerful thing. It changes people. And it has since transformed me into a morning person. But I digress.

"My feats of endurance are fine but few," to borrow a phrase from a friend. Emeth's birth and my three climbs up Mount Kinabalu are among my cherished occasions of growth. However distinct the experiences were in kind, in many ways my memories of them parallel. They were endeavors of great hope, with promises of sunrises and new life. They were sweet yet marvelous, compelling in their reminders of my humanness, weak and messy, and my need for other human beings.

My water broke around midnight, on the first day of April, 2008.

Hans was my champion in shining armor, my confidant, and my doula that night. He held my hand, with the other hand putting counter-pressure on my lower back as each contraction progress. He paced me, watched the monitor, reported the lengths and strength of my contractions. I took at least three steaming hot showers; they relieved me tremendously. As the pain peaked, I was unable to stand and we had exhausted all hymns. It was Hans who asked me to recite for him a psalm in hebrew. Psalm 137 was the only one I knew by heart. Thus, in my delirious state, I sat by the waters of Babylon and chanted, though weep I did not.

Hans adds this part: A little before 9 a.m., we were starting to wonder how much longer this was going to go on, and how much worse it could get. Just as we were thinking this, the nurse came in, told us we were ready to give birth, and that the worst was over. Which it was. This period was more painful than the birth itself, which was a relief in comparison.

At 9:41 a.m., I gave one last push. Hans missed Emeth's arrival because I was holding him ever so tightly around his neck.

I've always thought people were lying when they say you will feel no pain once the baby is out. I thought this was an unrealistic, yet another romanticized hollywood myth about the noble feelings of motherhood (which I found I disturbingly lacked throughout my pregnancy). My friends, mothers-to-be, I can attest now there is at least some truth to this and it is not because I was so "overcome with joy." I was joyful, in many senses, but my first meeting with Emeth was a little awkward. I stared at him and said, "Hi Emeth" about a dozen times. I didn't know what else to say. Albeit I have given birth only once, I can assure you I felt no pain. In fact, I was walking and enjoyed my fourth shower that morning within two hours after the delivery. It is true that the recovery for the next few months was uncomfortable, but not awful.

Lastly, below is a copy of our birth plan (minus a few details for confidentiality) for the purpose of giving you a rough idea some things to consider. For the most part, our birth was what we hoped for. I did have an IV with antibiotic but I was still able to move about and take showers. We would also like to add that we did take many hours of birthing classes with an extremely dedicated and competent instructor. These hours were extremely beneficial to us and suited to the way we learn as a couple. Secondly, we are indebted to two nurses that night. Advocates of natural birth themselves, they believed us and were confident that we were committed to our decisions. They allowed us the space to labor with minimal supervision. Though the doctors gave several suggestions of drugs, the nurses respected of our birth plan and were protective of our desired birth.

For all these things and so much more, we are thankful.

A Proposed Birth Plan

To the OB/GYN and the Family Birthing Center:

We are grateful for your help and care. As we look forward to the birth of our son, we would like to share with you a few decisions we have considered with respect to our delivery and recovery. We have made our decisions to the best of our understanding in the hope of a healthy and uncomplicated delivery for mother and child through natural childbirth.

Before labor:

× We would like to go into labor naturally, and not be induced before 42 week gestation period.

First stage of labor:

× We are working to avoid medication and will request it as needed

× We would like to have mobility during labor to encourage the labor process.

× In order to have the ability to move about, we would prefer intermittent fetal monitoring and to maintain hydration by regularly sipping water, rather than with an IV.

Second stage of labor:

× We are preparing to avoid an episiotomy and would prefer that the mother’s perineum tear naturally.

× We would like for the cord to stop pulsing before it is cut, and dad would like to cut the cord.

Third stage of labor:

× We ask that the mother would not be given Pitosin to deliver the placenta.

After the birth of our child:

× We plan to breastfeed our child exclusively and prefer no bottles or pacifier.

We are grateful and trust the discretion of our care providers. We look forward to experiencing this important event with you.

...and I want to eat what he eats.

Nowadays, I ask Hans to eat nearby Emeth because when he sees daddy eats, he eats. Last night, Emeth nearly jumped out of his high chair to get closer to Daddy's plate. When Mommy is feeding him, the food is acceptable. When Daddy is feeding Emeth (out of his plate), suddenly food tastes a whole lot better--even the roasted cauliflowers. and the chicken, let it be declared, Emeth loves chicken.

I was entertained.

Truth be told, there are days when I still cannot believe we are parents. I have somewhat made peace with this stage in life known as motherhood. As I was sorting through our receipts today, I stumbled across some purchases we made a year ago--avocado wraps from the Cheesecake Factory with their honey and cilantro sauce, baby things, baby things, and more baby things. I feel like I am gazing into a distant past, the b.e. (before Emeth) days. How ignorant we were at all thing related to babies!
This short post today is to make a resolution to write on a few things we learned (and still learning) since his arrival, such as natural birth, breastfeeding, some items that eased the transition, life as students-parents, etc. Before these precious lessons escape my fleeting memory entirely, I think it would be worthwhile to jot down some notes.
More urgently, many friends who are mothers-and-fathers-to-be have asked me for our thoughts on this life-changing season. This is my attempt to respond (knowing how behind I am with my correspondences lately). These entries are for you.
As someone who has a need to do research and be thoroughly informed, I especially appreciate stories other mothers openly shared with me about their children, knowing full well that each child is very different. Hopefully, these notes can be of some service.

i was so proud of him... munching away at my creation--lasagna noodles layered with garlic acorn squash sauce.

so we figured it out. for the passed couple of weeks (since his rejection of my attempt at making baby food), we have been offering emeth what we eat (though with much caution). apparently, it wasn't the garlic in the garlic mashed potato--he loves garlic, basil, parsley, pepper, ginger, oregano, and all kinds of spices. we found out that he prefers his food robust, not soft and mushy. a strange baby indeed. makes cooking for him very easy--there is no need of blending and grinding, just slight adjustments in the salt and sugar content.

we are very pleased  to announce (though not without some trepidation) that emeth is able to walk around his crib and play pen while holding onto the sides. he went from sitting up by himself, to pulling himself into a standing position, to walking while supporting himself in literally a week.

the consequences so far?
1. flickering lights in the apartment at 3 am because a nine-month old boy is able to reach the switches above his crib
2. sleepless and napless baby who loves to stand and little can keep him down (except for utter exhaustion at the end of the day)
3. sleepless parents who can't get much done because they must keep their eyes on their fearless babe

we are filled with joy and amazement to witness how quick he is learning. though we have uncertainties as to how to handle some of these changes, we remind ourselves that "this too shall pass" (גם זה יעבור‎‎, gam zeh yaavor). this is a season that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.