"Eat. In the mouth."

Today was a super exciting day in the Tien household - we took Taran's new birthday wheelbarrow and harvested our first potatoes and beets out of our garden! All of us were equally excited to push aside the mounds of straw and dirt, revealing the pale, speckled kennebecs hiding in the soil. Taran was jumping all around calling out "Get another big one! Get another big one!" Many of them are still just the size of a fava bean, but a few were quite large and are now sitting on our counter waiting to be roasted with lemon thyme from our herb bed and candy onions that we picked up at our farmers market yesterday morning.

It's been an exhausting week trying to catch up with all the work we couldn't do when we were in Cleveland last week to escape the heat during the week long power outage. Joe and I are both feeling like limp rags so a kick-it-around-the-house weekend has been just perfect. Plus you never know what amazing things you'll see right in your own backyard.

Merry-Go-Round

Happy July 4th everyone!

It's been an eventful week around here so I've been a bit remiss about my blog entries. Last Friday night, an insane storm blew in and knocked down trees throughout the city and beyond. Not surprisingly we lost power, but when it still hadn't turned on by morning - and between temps in the upper 90's, no electric, and a toddler - Joe and I made a split decision to pack up the car and the child and all the food we could salvage and take the 2.5 hour drive North to Joe's parents house. That was 7 at a.m. and by 8:45 the wheels had hit the pavement and we were off. We live in a 1915-built house in an old neighborhood that is notorious for losing power for up to a week at a time.

 Once we were able to hear the news we found out that 660,000 people were out of power within the surrounding area and the outages are ongoing 6 days later. Although I received a text from neighbors this evening letting me know the power was back on, we decided to stay put through the weekend. As it turns out two of Joe's closest high school buddies are also in town this week with their wives and kids who are all within week/months of Taran's age. Plus, we planned to have family drive down to see us on Saturday to celebrate Taran's second birthday, but it seems sort of silly to have them drive down in two days when we are right here, right now. So anyway, we walked into the house on Saturday morning and my father-in-law informed us that our area of Columbus and surrounding states had experienced a "Dorito". I was a bit bewildered to what he was referring but it turns out there is a storm system called a "Derecho". ("You say Dorito, I say Dorecho"...la la la). Who knew? No one I've talked to has ever heard of such a thing so I certainly don't fault the man for being a bit perplexed by the name. But it was quite serious and winds reached upwards of 90 miles an hour. I guess that explains it. It couldn't have been a more perfect week for the power outage to happen - I'll spare you the details and just say that any other week it would have been impossible to leave with work, but this week, all the stars aligned or something and Joe and I were both able to leave with not too much finagling. And Taran couldn't be more thrilled. As far as he's concerned every morning at Ye Ye and Nai Nai's is Christmas morning. So he's been waking up at 5 am and immediately asking to see them. I keep trying to explain that waking up earlier won't help him to see them any faster, because despite the force and enthusiasm of their love for him, they still manage to sleep until a reasonable hour so he might as well do the same. So far, this message has not struck home. I do love that he loves being around family so much. He's just been this radiant ball of joy since we got here. An exhausted ball, but a radiant one.

He's just as happy as can be as long as his posse is near.

Sometimes his unbridled enthusiasm can lead to some sticky spots. This seems to be particularly true when it concerns his interactions with other toddlers. I love that he wants to "hold the hand" of everyone he meets. And for those who are old enough to be amused by this, it's no problem. Yesterday at the playground, for example, he heard a couple of boys talking on a platform high above us. He of course wanted me to take him up to investigate and before I had even finished climbing the ladder he said to one of the eleven-year olds perched up there..."hold the hand?"

Luckily, the boy was super friendly and great with little ones and was totally pleased to hold Taran's hand and play with him.

I think the distinguishing feature for when it's been ok and when it hasn't comes down to body size. Taran will very nicely ask to hold the hand, but then, without waiting for an answer, he will snatch the unsuspecting victims hand up and shoot off in a mad tear, unwilling participant bumping along behind him. Not surprisingly, this has led to a few tears being shed by the small, hapless participee in question (yes, I know, it's not a word and spell check is yelling at me, but you know what I mean). To see Taran's face in response is totally heartbreaking. He's totally crushed and upset that whatever friend he's wanting to be near is a) crying and b) doesn't want to hold his hand. Ugh. This is not one of the joys of parenting. Because how do you explain to a not-quite-yet two-year old about boundaries?! I was totally in an out-of-perspective funk after this happened several times this week with different children, thinking "Are these the kinds of experience that put a black spot on our souls? When our joy and our passion run face first into a wall, is that how we get jaded?" Yes I know, I know, totally melodramatic. Blame it on the sleep deprivation. But seriously. Our kids will have to have their feelings crushed sometimes in learning about the world and learning to exist harmoniously in relationship to others. As I was driving along pondering all this one day, a song came on my cd player that the whole family loves, including Taran (It's the best when he tries to sing along without knowing the words and his mouth is opening and closing in an imitation of singing with a lot of made up words thrown in). The words reminded me that life is a double-edged sword and that the beauty in life can only be experienced because we also know pain. Somehow it felt like Taran was sending me a message in loving the song. Like he understood what the song was saying and that he chooses to eat life in all it's complexities. I know... deeper than a two year old is capable of. But I felt better after I had the thought.

Wild Child

It's been a slow week on picture taking - I guess I've been busy just living. Since getting my new camera and starting this blog, I've found myself sometimes so absorbed in trying to document a moment  I'm not actually participating in it.

It's something that has been on my mind quite a bit. Somewhat serendipitously, I was recently reading a post by a fellow blogger (who's reflections on life and writing style I enjoy very much - and the food! This woman understand beautiful food!) and she shared a link to a TED talk given by one of my favorite food photographers, Penny De Los Santos. In the talk, Penny raises this exact point when she talks about setting down her camera to be with her dying mother at her bedside and make her one last bowl of homemade chicken soup before she dies. The talk is only about 12 minutes long, and worth checking out when you have the time. Penny's photography is stunning - she's the only photo contributor to Saveur magazine who's name I actually know - but more lovely yet is her view on life. She understands how to "savour life intensely" and that is something that I have deep admiration for.

Although I write about the dichotomy between capturing life and engaging in it this isnt' always my experience with my camera. Sometimes I see the world differently BECAUSE I have my camera there - I see the small details in things I might never have noticed otherwise. And without my camera today I would have missed this moment

or this one as he swallowed the felt sticker on the watering can that I had just told him not to eat.

Man that determination! And boy is he getting better every day at telling us exactly what he does and DOES NOT want. This past week in particular he has been such a wild child. Suddenly it's like his brain is firing on overdrive. Every night it has been taking him over an hour to fall asleep and he's been popping up at 5 am. Why? Why?! Especially on my first week of teaching when I've been up every night until midnight writing my lectures. 

There is much sweetness in the mania - lots of full-on-mouth kisses and nuzzles, spontaneous bursts of joyful laughter and welcome hugs. But also, such defiance, such barnacle-ing. The best is when he does something he KNOWS is naughty, like throwing all his food off the tray and then afterwards shaking his head and scolding himself before I've even had a chance to open my mouth "No throwing, no throwing". That's right buddy, so why are you doing it?!

Yesterday was another 5 a.m. day and by 6 a.m. he was already whipping himself into a frenzy, running in circles, laughing like a crazed man one minute and then bursting into tears the next when I wouldn't let him play with a bottle of methialate. I know I've said this before, but he's really not a cryer. So when he has a total melt-down over something so tiny and random, I'm partly annoyed but on a much bigger level, greatly sympathetic because clearly something has got him feeling totally "wonky" as he likes to say. 

After trying numerous distractions to no avail (every thing I suggested was met with a disdainful "All done" and a swat) I finally lay back on the kitchen floor and said "Mama's all done"). Joe, who had been washing dishes and not heard much of this interaction came over to see what all the fuss was about. He too, tried various strategies to cheer up the little man. Offering a walk - "All done outside!", singing the Elmo song - "All done, Elmo". The finale was when he hopped off Joe's lap, walked by an Ecology textbook on the coffee table, gave it a resounding slap and shouted out "All done, Book!". I know we shouldn't have burst out laughing at this point, but the whole scene was verging on comical. I guess this could be considered his first temper tantrum. And from a psychological perspective, well done, Taran. You are hitting all the developmental milestones nicely - asserting your independence, expressing your feelings. From a dead-tired parenting perspective....slightly less fantastic.

Jessikah found a great book at the library the other day that is so fitting for the mood around our house these days. The pictures are bright and beautiful, Taran loves it, and we love it too because it gives us a much needed smile during some of the more trying times.

In the moments where he is calm and snuggly, another family favorite lately has been this fantastic book that we stumbled upon at the Children's book store down the street.

In those moments at the end of the day, when he's finally allowing his body to melt into stillness, to melt into my own, I sit him on my lap, I breathe in the scent of his freshly washed hair and I remind him and myself how Full, Full, Full, of Love I am.

Random Reflections

Taran's second birthday is coming up in just a few weeks (?!) and Joe and I have been discussing what special things we want to get him. But observing him this week really cracks me up because our concept of a special toy and his concept of a special toy are vastly different, and honestly I have more respect for his point of view.

The bucket of rocks I picked up were a big hit and he's found all kinds of interesting things to do with them like dropping them in the sound hole of his guitar, attempting to lodge them in his ear canals and wear them as hats, learning about the basic principles of balance and physics...

The cheese cracker is an essential component in this balancing act - without it all would be lost.

For the most part, I really love seeing what enjoyment he gets out of everyday household objects. Of course, I'd be a little happier (or at least less mortified) if he weren't so fascinated with things like my dirty underwear.... or my box of tampons. Sorry, I know, TMI.

On the less gnarly and embarrassing side, he can make a violin out of anything. This morning he was supremely pleased to be holding "two violins!!" at once. Just in case you have trouble distinguishing what are violins and bows in the following picture, the violins are the wooden frying pan and the blue shovel, the bows are the french press handle and the drumstick.

There is nothing quite so lovely as the imagination of a two year old....

But dinners with Joe come pretty close. The thing about being an academic is that the job never ends. This means that Joe works every night of the week except Saturday, our date night. But honestly I look more forward to our evening ritual of dinner together, after Taran is down and before Joe starts work again, than I do of our date night. Date nights can be pretty lame affairs - we are usually wiped out come Saturday so we aren't game for doing much exciting. Last week I think we did half a NY Times crossword and then I passed out on the couch while Joe practiced guitar.

But I cherish the chance to connect over dinner and share all the little details of our day. I'm really touched by how sacred Joe holds this ritual, no matter how busy he is. Most of the time, the conversation runs towards the mundane but every once in a while, a question gets raised that leads to some surprising revelations. Tonight, randomly, I asked Joe if he would have gotten a tattoo, what would it have been -  About 9 years ago I got a tattoo in a parlor in Grenwich Village in NYC. I'd been thinking about it for three years prior, but the decision to do it at that moment was impulsive, like many other things I do. The tattoo is of a phoenix, for all the obvious symbolism. - Anyway, his response: A line from the Maya Angelou poem "Still I Rise". I was a bit floored because it's the verbal equivalent of my tattoo and I never even knew he'd had that thought. 

It was interesting to hear what drew him to the poem, how it struck a chord in him on what it meant to have a sense of pride in oneself. In Chinese culture, and definitely in his family, being prideful is not  encouraged. But as a teenager, he realized the value and the importance of pride, not as a boastful thing, but as a healthy love for oneself. So we listened to the Maya Angelou poem together and then we went off to our respective corners in the house, he to work, and me to write this post. It was just a short, sweet moment, but I love that after half a decade, I'm constantly learning new things about this man. 

Father's Day is just two days away and the other thing I've been thinking about this week is how lucky Taran and I are to have this pride-ful, huge-hearted, fiercely loyal lion of a man in our lives. Thanks babe. I love you so much.

Landing back down

We arrived back home this afternoon after a week of travel - up to Cleveland, further north to Ontario, back to Cleveland, back home. There are many stories and great pictures from the trip, but right now we are all utterly exhausted (T was asleep by 6:15 pm!!), so a post on the trip will have to wait.

At the moment, I'm just trying to figure out something special to do tomorrow with Taran. He kept running around the house this afternoon asking for various Cleveland family members and I think tomorrow is going to be a hard day when Joe and I go back to work and he doesn't have a gaggle of family around to shower him with affection.

I just snuck down to the park with his blue bucket and pilfered some rocks by the river's edge. There is endless scope for imagination in a pile of rocks: Biggest? Littlest? Blue rock? Pink Rock? How Many? What shape? What does it remind you of?

 I threw together a couple of rock animals for Jessikah for the morning to get her creative juices flowing. Now I think I'm going to have a hard time leaving tomorrow because it would be so much more fun to stick around here with the peanut and play with rocks. I used to have a whole rock collection when I was a kid and to this day, rock hunting/collecting is one of my favorite things to do on vacation. I guess I'll just have to be satisfied with pictures and second-hand retelling of the day.
 

There are a couple of great sites that I love to go to when I'm looking for fun new crafty, sensory, nature play type activities to do with Taran.

The Imagination Tree has great projects for toddlers and Nurture Store (where I got the idea for rock art) also has really fun ideas although some are geared more for older kids. Check them out when you get a chance!

Desolate Silence

Desolate Silence
'Neath the soft fur of bear pal
woeful eyes peer out

Man I wish I had placed my camera in the front seat so I could have captured Taran's expression as we passed the fifteen minute mark on the clock and he realized  he was in it for the long haul all the way to Cleveland.  Sometimes he's very vocal in his upset, but this time he was deeply quiet and resigned about the whole thing.  Every time I looked back at him he stared at me with this look like "Mama, I've been betrayed". Or maybe he was just so exhausted he couldn't muster up a happy expression. He was so excited that we were coming to see his Ye Ye and Nai Nai when we put him down last night that it took him an hour to fall asleep and then he woke up by 5:45 am. So he was cooooked.

Anyway, I think he forgave us when he got here and his cousins, Jessie and Neko were waiting for him for an all day play date.

Jessie's only two weeks older than Taran and when they were smaller, they barely acknowledged each other's existence, but in the past 6 months, they have begun to relate more and more. As for Taran's 4 year old cousin Neko....he's in love. It was so nice to get so much time with the girls and we all had so much fun. Taran loves to "hold the hand" and Jessie was pretty into it too....

until he started to careen wildly through the yard...

and down a hill...

and accidentally spun them face first into the grass at the bottom with his exuberance. He thought this was hilarious, great fun until Jessie burst into tears at which point I think he felt quite bad.

But a little goose-watching,

a couple of rounds of duck-duck-goose, and some shared enjoyment of pretend chocolate....

and everyone was happy again, if not a bit pooped out.

Nothing special, just a walk in the backyard, but it did wonders for blowing off any residual cobwebs from leg 1 of our road trip.

Tomorrow the girls are busy and we are going to just take a quiet day to spend with the grandparents and then Thursday morning it's back in the car again for the five hours up to Brantford, Ontario with the whole family for Joe's cousin's wedding. Wish us luck for the trip!

One small, beautiful thing

It's been a bit of a strange time lately. Taran has never had much separation anxiety, nor been that weepy, but in the last couple of weeks he's been my little barnacle with endless exclamations of "Up by Mama" with the occasional shove in Papa's direction and the equally emphatically stated "All done with Papa". Well then.
 

The above picture was taken on a particularly tearful morning in which I was un-washed, un-dressed, un-fed, un-done and I had to leave the house "right NOW!" for an important meeting. Actually, every day this week I had something or other important to do for work that required me to peel him off my body, hand him over to our Nanny and watch his face crumple as I headed out the door. This morning I did not have to be anywhere urgent - this is why I love my job, it has a lot of flexibility (usually) so we only have to have someone come to our home part-time, giving me a chance to play and hang out and work more after Taran goes to sleep.

So, not being able to face one more heartbreaking "Mama, hold the hand, up by Mama, Up By Mamaaaaaa" morning, I stayed home. It was raining hard (finally!!) so Jessikah and Taran and I took a drive down to the North Market to run around. Taran was sooo thrilled to have us both loving him up and it was really nice to see him so happy and excited. As we walked by a produce stall he cried out "Mama, Apple! Eat it!" How could I resist that!
 

Despite his thorough enjoyment of the apple, he was still willing to share it with the Market's lovely painted porcelain pig.
 

Nothing wildly eventful or exciting happened this morning. But the fact that I could take the time to hold my son and love him up in the way that he really seems to need right now felt like one small, beautiful thing at the end of a hard week.