Monthly Archive for June, 2008

She Turned Four Months When You Weren’t Looking

Apologies for the radio silence.

Can you say “allergies suck”?

And there IS such a thing as a grass allergy combined with a sensitivity to dust. Couldn’t I just be sensitive to your feelings?

But that didn’t stop us from going out and doing Rubelicious things!

For those of you playing the Where In The World Is Ruby Rendiego Ã¢â‚¬â€ blast from the past alert! Ã¢â‚¬â€ game, thanks for your patience, and here they are…Your moments of Zen.

Is it just me or did she grow five inches when I wasn’t looking? She’s positively TALL!

My attempt to teach her Chinese borders on the farcical. Thank gawd for hanyu pinyin.

She is just beginning to understand peekaboo. Babies must have memories of fish. Because it will amuse her for 15 minutes even if you appear and reappear from the same spot.

Jay and I disagree about this but…DOESN’T SHE LOOK LIKE THAT BABY ON THE BOX? Minus the mohawk?

Jay entertains Ruby with some nifty disguises.

I personally find that rather creepy.

We (and by that I mean Jay, and only Jay) played kickball with some friends, including a father of another Ruby who drives this car!

All hail!

As a random aside, his nicknames for her include Rubes and Rubester!

What are the odds.

Ruby goes on a picnic with Uncle Kevin…

…and finds these awesome glasses.

Those are Kim Jong Il glasses on lava lamp crack.

Too obscure? Too bad.

And at the end of the day, I am again left wondering: When do those arms reach over her head?

Published by dorothyho on June 30, 2008 in Musings and Photography. 6 Comments

Does A Rabbit Move Like A Silent Ninja?

Here is one of Ruby’s favorite books, which used to belong to her cousins, and which I accidentally took home this past visit. Ahem.

Moving along.

So there’s three pages.

War and Peace this is not.

The first page is the dog page, and I always go, “Here’s a dog, it goes ‘woof woof!’”

The last page is the cat page, and I go, “Here’s a cat, it goes ‘meow meow!’”

But I am always stumped when I am on the second page.

It’s a rabbit.

I suppress the urge to go, “Ribbit, ribbit!” and instead say something lame like, “Here’s a rabbit, it likes carrots.”

I don’t know why it bugs me so much, but it does. I badly want to make a sound to keep with the flow of MY imaginary story.

But what sound do I tell her a rabbit makes?

Published by dorothyho on June 25, 2008 in Musings and Photography. 4 Comments

Friends Don’t Let Friends Call Their Kids Poopie Pie

If there’s one thing that made the whole “cry-flying” worth it (besides family of course), it was having Ruby meet some good friends back home.

And Ruby, you have them to thank for simultaneously chiding me for the nicknames I give you, and giving you a nickname at the same time.

Er, perfect.

When she heard me go “Ruby Poo,” Janice recounted her own experience of her mom calling her something rather unpleasant till she was 15. FIFTEEN!

I wouldn’t do that, I said. Would I?

Rubes.Rubester.Poopster.PoopiePie.RubetheCube.RubyPoo.Poopy.Poopsie.Iforgettherest.

Ruby sure has a few Ã¢â‚¬â€ shall we say Ã¢â‚¬â€ variations to her name.

I guess poop references are only cute when you’re less than three feet tall. (No offence to gnomes and little people.)

I asked my parents what they used to call me, and my dad said, “Know-Nothing” in Cantonese. My sister was apparently “Clumsy One” in Cantonese and my brother, “Ninja Turtle.” After the series, not any latent violent tendencies.

I wasn’t too scarred by all that. Hell, I don’t even remember.

But I don’t want Ruby going for therapy years from now, saying, “You know, my mom was kinda cool. But I hated that dumb nickname.”

So Ruby, you can thank Janice for my cutting back on the Ruby Poos, but you can ~~blame~~ thank Alan for coming up with a new one.

Your rosy and ample cheeks do you in, my dear.

He said, “Just put a red dot on her forehead and she’s Char Siew Pao.”

Genius, really.

Published by dorothyho on June 24, 2008 in Musings and Photography. 1 Comment

Please. Make. The. Pain. And. Aches. Go. Away.

How is it that I’m perfectly fine and positively upbeat before boarding the plane home (See happy Dot with an ambivalent Ruby avoiding the camera at the airport), but I get off the plane an exhausted and sick human (See Ruby looking pissed off at Dot and life in general while on the plane)?

Oh, yeah. I forgot.

I got on a 24-hour flight across the Pacific. With one stopover and one delay. With a four-month-old. Prone to crying spells lasting 30 minutes. On a plane filled with more than 300 passengers.

Do the math and I’m screwed every which way.

Someone pass the Tylenol.

Can you take that with beer?

Published by dorothyho on June 24, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments

Why Fly When You Can Cry?

Well folks, we made it, and this (above) is how Ruby feels about the whole “flying” thing.

And by “flying” I actually mean “crying” through the security checkpoint in Singapore’s Changi Airport, “fussing” for nine of the 16 hours onboard SQ 38, “crying” on descent, “crying” through security at LAX, “barely holding it together” during the two-hour delay at LAX, “crying” for the first half hour of the two-hour flight to Seattle, and “crying” all the way home in the carseat.

Flying.

It’s the new crying.

Published by dorothyho on June 22, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments

Random Useless Non Sequitur #21

FACT: After spending three weeks in the hot, humid tropics, the toilet seat back in Seattle will feel cold. Very cold.

FACT: When you return from Singapore, you will also find a brand new carpet for your child, so she can safely practise rolling around the house.

CONCLUSION: Therefore, going on vacation in the tropics will lead to cold (but safe) bottoms.

Published by dorothyho on June 21, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments

Why Yes, I’ll Have That Double Chocolate Fudge Brownie Ice-Cream Dessert (With Rainbow Sprinkles On Top). And Throw In The Edible Gold Leaf. Thanks.

You know those decisions you make when you’re on vacation?

Bartender, another tequila!
I want that fridge magnet the shape of the city I just visited!
Sure, I have room for an appetizer and a dessert!
Yes, I’ll pay full price for baby clothes!

Nope.
Didn’t do that.
Not that either.
GUILTY AS CHARGED.

I finally broke my cardinal rule of never buying baby clothes at full retail price.

I’m not a cheapo, just a pragmatist. Sales, consignment stores, and hand-me-downs have served Ruby well.

But today, I met my match in these too-cute-for-words dresses from Zara Baby.

Holy Adorability!

Cuteness, plus Ruby’s cuteness, can only mean MEGA CUTENESS. I’ll pay that price if I can add to the fabulousness that is Miss Ruby.

Now, we just need to work on her social calendar and get her invited to some swanky ‘dos.

Anyone turning one soon?

Published by dorothyho on June 19, 2008 in Musings. 8 Comments

Relatively Speaking

I have a confession to make.

Okay, it’s more like a statement of fact, but it’s such a grossly embarrassing fact that it might as well be a confession and you can feel superior to me. How’s that?

Here goes.

I don’t know many of my relatives’ names. (Do you?)

I grew up calling my relatives by their ranks — Big Auntie, Third Uncle — or a derivative of their names by adding “Ah” in front of it — Ah Leong, Ah Fong, Ah Meng.

Jay is INCREDULOUS that I don’t know all my cousins’ names. But that’s easy for him to say. I think he has like four first cousins. Total.

I don’t even know how many first cousins I have. I can safely say it’s under 50.

So of course I find out today that Ruby has a great-great-grandmother.

A living great-great-grandmother.

Who is 101. Years. Old.

Erm, really?

Obviously we didn’t go Chinese New Year visiting to said great-great-grandmother. My mom reminds me that I met her many, many years ago.

Here, Ruby is meeting her great-grandmother for the first time.

I don’t know her name either. I call her Ah Por, which means “maternal grandmother” in Cantonese.

She speaks no English, and I speak no Hokkien.

But we speak Ruby.

It’s the language of “I’m so cute, you gotta carry me. Dude.”

Published by dorothyho on June 18, 2008 in Musings. 5 Comments

Bite Me (No, Not Really.)

Question.

If you were a mozzie, and you flew by Dot and Ruby, who would you bite?

Answer.

I’d bite Dot once, and Ruby, five times. In an air-conditioned restaurant.

Dude, you’re either some mutated strain of mosquito from the Artic or you have some chilly balls to hang around air-conditioning.

All I can say is, I guess my days as the token mozzie repellent around Jay are over.

Published by dorothyho on June 17, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments

Clippings, Nothing More Than Clippings

See Ruby tasting her Rubelicious fingers?

Now, I want you to lift your hands from the keyboard and mouse and look closely at your own fingers.

Next, I want you to pick up the phone and — this is extremely important — no matter what time it is and no matter where your parents are in this world, I want you to call them immediately and repeat the following words.

Mom, dad, I just want to thank you for cutting my nails every two weeks of my life till I was at least three years old.

I’m calling now because I care. Because I know. Because until I’ve tried to cut the nails of an infant who sucks on her fingers and kicks her feet in her sleep, I have no idea of the massive planning (Is she asleep? Is she REALLY asleep?), stealth lighting (Don’t turn on the lights, just use a flashlight!), and furtive clippings (Quickly, before the clicking sound wakes her up!).

I used to be one of the blissfully ignorant masses. I, like many, naturally assumed my nails grew slowly as a baby. Now I know. Now I will take you out for dinner because you know what? I owe you that much.

Published by dorothyho on June 15, 2008 in Musings. 0 Comments