The Dancing Samoks...

Yup, we like the Barenaked Ladies in our house. Our kids have given BNL the greatest amount of CD play within the past year. Goobs and the Bun especially like the "Everything for Everyone" CD. They really rock out to the song..."Another Postcard." J has been doing a lot of videotaping of the kids and she's got them dancing to BNL for a prolonged period of time. We kind of had forgotten about how much until she took the tapes in to have them converted into DVD's so we can send them to her mom back in the Philippines. We watched the DVD's when we got them back from Proex this past weekend and really had a great time. We saw the Bun waving her arms and bouncing up and down. Goobs vacilated between doing the pogo to a preschool version of a stage dive onto the sofa. It was a blast to watch. The kids even started dancing again when they saw themselves on the DVD. We also had tape of the kids dancing to BNL's tune on the "Chicken Little" soundtrack, called "One Little Slip." J even danced with them during that tune.

I have seen some performers or groups that are specifically for kids...Milkshake, Dan Zane...etc., but my kids don't bounce off of the walls for those folks. They jam to BNL-occasionally Goobs asks me to throw on some old Aerosmith and turn it up. He says, "Daddy, I want Rock and Roll!" Who am I to turn him down if he wants to have a little fun with some music.

We also can get mellow in the Samok household. The kids also love Jack Johnson's Curious George Soundtrack. The call it "Monkey Song." The tune "Upside Down" from that CD came on the radio when we were driving the other day and the kids screamed "Monkey Song..Monkey Song...Daddy I want it louder!!!"The Bun's second birthday is coming up at the end of August. My fantasy is to be able to call up the boys from BNL and have them play a backyard birthday concert for my kids. After seeing them in concert and also some of their live performances on TV, I think Ed Robertson and Stephen Paige and the boys are just big kids themselves. Man, it would be great to have a little cake and dance around with my kids to "If I had a million dollars." I just think that would be sooooo coooooool.

NO SMOKING!!!

I had to go down to the outside smoking area at our school today. I needed to speak to a student between classes and this was the only way to catch him. He was on a smoke break since his next class is an Asian Foods lab that lasts for five hours. Since this is a college and students are adults, they are free to smoke if they choose... in the outdoor area... and of course this also includes faculty and staff. Ours is also an art school with a culinary program, so I would guess a lot of our "suffering and starving artists" suck down a crapload of nicotine.

Now this outdoor smoking area used to be completely open, but there was a hoity toity boutique hotel built right next to us, and we being good neighbors, put up ground to ceiling hurricane fencing with vinyl barriers that cover about 8-9 feet of the fencing. So...there isn't much of a breeze that can thin out the smoke that billows out from the cigarettes in that area. I don't spend a great deal of time down there...That was the first time I've been down there since they put up the fencing. I think it will be the last.

I only needed to talk to Zach for about two minutes. By the time I was done talking to him my head was spinning and I felt like I wanted to throw up. I really didn't think it would affect me quite that way, but it certainly did. It's been an hour since I've been down there and I still have the remains of a headache. I just sniffed my shirt, and it still smells like cigarettes. Okay...I probably am overreacting. I'm such a girly man...

Now...I don't want to be preachy, because preachy people want to make me puke too. But, I don't want to be around that or have my kids be exposed to cigarettes. Here's the weird part. I used to smoke cigarettes...and I still very occasionally enjoy a nice cigar if I am sitting on my deck late at night after the kids go to bed (I hope that doesn't make me too much of a dopey hypocrite).

I started thinking about this a few weeks ago when we went to our homeowners association's pool. There were a lot of twentysomething folks drinking beer and smoking in the pool area. Both alcohol and tobacco are prohibited there, but it seems like the rule is pretty much ignored. We didn't stay too long that particular afternoon. Goobs smelled the smoke from the cigarettes and and said, "Daddy, what's that smell?" I didn't tell him about the cigarettes, but I said..."Yeah, it's a bad smell isn't it?" He agree with me. I didn't want to get into the discussion about cigarettes right then and there, so I kept it at that.

What kills me is this...it didn't used to bother me that much at all-probably because I still was sneaking smokes every so often. I lived in Seoul for seven years...that's probably most smoke friendly place I've every been to. Every place that I went had someone smoking...except of course church...and fast food restaurants. But...everywhere else...someone was in the process of lighting up, in the middle of one, or putting a smoke out. If you were a guy, you had the obligatory breast pocket that jutted out in a rectangular fashion in the shape of a pack. If you were female, you hung out at a cafe because you couln't smoke outside...but you still smoked. I was there...I was in the middle of the cloud, but I didn't get headaches and feel like I wanted to puke. What's the difference now??? All I know now is I can't hang in a smokey environment like that for even two minutes.

I do know this...If I catch my kids smoking...I WILL BUST THEIR BUTTS...I will SAMOK THEIR WORLDS. They can take that to the bank.

PMS in toddlers???

Is it possible for a two year old girl to PMS??? I didn't think so, but then again my daughter...the Bun, had me thinking twice yesterday morning. Okay...so maybe I'm overreacting. I've been accused of that by my loving wife on a few occasions here and there.

But there I was...six thirty in the morning, pouring a bowl of dry Cheerios and getting her morning ration of grapes. Usually, she loves me to put a pile of Cheerios on my palm and she grabs a huge handful and stuffs them in her little mouth. She then picks up a few errant ones and feeds me. It's a cute exchange that I particularly enjoy. We do the same with the grapes...she can't actually grab a pile of grapes. Thankfully she eats those one at a time.

Well anyway...I get the Cheerios in the bowl, lay down her grapes, and finally fill her sippy cup up with milk. Seemed normal...but then, I dipped my hand into the bowl of dry Cheerios and a shriek went up. She then screamed "Daddy no!" I picked the cereal out of the bowl in my usual fashion and she slapped it away, sending Cheerios all over the table and on the floor. I tried again, and she whacked my hand with all the ferocity a little girl her size could muster. I then attempted to give her the sippy cup of milk. Same treatment...the cup went flying on the floor. All the while, screaming and crying. Okay I thought, let's try the grapes. Same thing. Nothing, absolutely nothing was making this little girl happy.

This drama goes on for about ten minutes. I decided that she could sit in her chair and I would just step out of the kitchen for a moment to see if removing daddy from the situation just might calm her down. I walked around the corner out of sight, just intending to wait there until she calmed down a little. That was even a bigger mistake. Daddy leaving just made her shriek louder. Okay...breakfast wasn't working and she hadn't been changed yet to get ready for daycare...Dad will get her ready. Maybe that will work. Not a chance...it was havoc throughout the changing process. We got it done and returned to the kitchen for round two of breakfast. The screaming went on for a couple of minutes, and then without so much as a small indication, she took a deep breath, smiled and then started eating her Cheerios and grapes. I dipped my hand in the Cheerios and handed her a pile. She smiled and shoveled them in. From that point on, she was a pleasant little girl. No more howling or whacking her food away. It was just the Bun and Daddy sharing their usual breakfast moment.

It was weird. It was exciting. It was our morning.

I was thinking yesterday about what it would be like if we lived in the Philippines. How would things be different. What would the family dynamic be like? I've had this fantasy about packing up the family and setting down roots in Davao. I've spent a lot of time there, the longest stretch being two months in one shot. I know it would be completely different to live there...permanently.

The big thing I was thinking about was having a family helper/yaya. What would it be like to have a helper/yaya for the kids??? My mother-in-law has had the same helper for many years. Jina has been there for Mama for over a decade I think. J tells me that Mama scolds Jina for not eating enough or not taking care of herself. Even though Mama employs Jina, it seems that neither one of them can live without the other. Jina left for a while to strike off on her own. Mama tried two or three different helpers, but none worked out well for her. After a while, Jina returned. They both seem happier together. I surmise that since J has moved to Minnesota and her brother is in Manila, Mama needs someone to take care of and mother. Jina sees Mama as a mother figure as well. It works for them and I'm glad.

Whenever we are in the Philippines, Jina is there with Mama. I have a hard time with dealing with a helper--put simply, I feel guilty. Here's an example of what I'[m talking about.There we were, sitting in the sala, just hanging out, talking and watching TV. Meanwhile, Jina was in the kitchen cleaning up. I kept wanting to get up and help her clear the table and wash dishes. I found myself ambling over to the kitchen to do just that. J stopped me and told me that it was Jina's job to clean up and do the dishes. Coming from a midwestern middle class family, the idea of having someone to wash my dishes was completely "foreign" to me-duh, go figure. I felt guilty in March when Jina was working in the kitchen again. I don't think the guilt for goes away quickly...

J told me that when she was growing up that she and her younger brother had a yaya. At first, I didn't understand the concept of the yaya. J took the time to explain what a yaya does. It sounded like that children have "caregivers" independent of moms and dads. I'm still not sure about the whole idea of the yaya. Does that give parents more freedom to work? Is it intended to give children more intensive care that possibly parents can't provide since the whole intent of a yaya is the close care of children in an individual family? Can the couple with a helper/yaya enjoy more time together since they have an extra hand with housework or the children? I'm not sure.

I do know this...J and I are always busy and I can't imagine what it would be like to have a helper/yaya. I do know that it's a pain in the butt just to get a good babysitter these days here in the twin cities. I also know that child care and housework take up a major part of every day in our household. The kitchen just doesn't clean itself in the evening after dinner. The clothes don't jump in and out of the washer and dryer and they can't be ironed out of sheer willpower-note, Samok Daddy is the guy who does all the ironing in our household. Making the houselhold work on a daily basis is like running a small army... the troops need to keep the barracks cleaned, they need fresh uniforms, good exercise, food, and motivation. I like to think I am in charge, but I know that J is truly the commanding general. I'll keep the illusion of being the "commander in chief" going in my head at least.

I know that having a helper/yaya would be nice, but I don't know how the adjustment would be...

Yikes...

This is Mrs. Tweedy from Chicken Run. She scares me...my kids laugh at her...but she scares me. I'm such a weenie.

Repetition...

My kids don't want to watch something new. They crave seeing things over and over again. I think we've seen chicken run at least 40 times since we got it in the mail from Blockbuster. I'm seeing a chicken prison camp in my sleep. I suppose I'll start hearing Mel Gibson's voice whispering behind me. Just some of my daily weirdness...

At the Swimmin' hole

I am so happy that Goobs is taking swimming lessons this summer. He's still hesitant in the water and is taking his time getting comfortable. He's getting there and enjoys getting in the pool with me. He just needs a combination of cajoling and patience. He went off of the slide with all the other kids in his class tonight. That's pretty good for a kid who will be turning four in October.

The Bun, on the other hand, is fearless when it comes to water. I recall her excitement when we were island hopping between Samal and Talikud. The bun wanted to be right down at the bottom of the steps off of the outrigger on the banca. If she could have jumped in, she would have. That little chick is our water baby. She gets upset if we don't take her in the big pool when we go swimming on the weekends.

I was certified as an open water diver in 2000 in Davao. Diving is one of the most exciting and fulfilling things I've ever done. Snorkeling is also "cooler than heck." Just being in the clear water off of Samal and Talikud is one of the best things I can think of. I want to share that with both Goobs and the Bun. Okay...I sort of fancy myself like a Samok Daddy Jaques Cousteau, giving his kids the opportunities to swim with the the beautiful fishes in the sea. Okay...okay...let's just get the kids in the pool and let them have fun...Let them splash each other and jump off of a diving board. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. How about we just sit in the kiddie pool for a little while.

Pass me the sunscreen.