Below are some books that were a hit with my son before he learned to profusely use the word "No."
My criteria for choosing a book for him? One, book should have beautiful illustration. Why? Imagine bedding Ugly every night. Nuff said. Two, the story should delight even me. Darn it, I'll be reading it to him over and over. Might as well buy something that amuses me, too! There are of course other wonderful picture books not listed below that I tried to 'force' my kid to like, but the kid's just stubborn (takes after his dad, I've decided) and had his own opinion.
Some books in the list might be a bit expensive, but the investment has paid off for me - my son learned to read at an early age, he talks like he's already 30, and he still continues to use these books (sometimes as racetrack for his Hotwheels) now that he's 5. You are welcome to add to the list!
A few months old to 2 years old
1. Pat the Bunny (touch-and-feel book by Dorothy Kunhardt)
2. Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See (Eric Carle)
3. I'm the Biggest Thing in the Ocean (Kevin Sherry)
4. From Head to Toe (Eric Carle)
5. One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish (Dr. Seuss)
6. Click, Clack, Moo Cows that Type (Doreen Cronin)
2-4 years old
1. Pumpkin Eye (Dennie Fleming)
2. Outside, Inside (Carolyn Crimi)
3. The Very Hungry Caterpillar (also Count with The Very Hungry Caterpillar both by Eric Carle)
4. In the Tall, Tall Grass (Denise Fleming)
5. The Very Busy Spider (Eric Carle)
6. Harry and the Terrible Whatzit (Dick Gackenbach)
7. All Join In (Quentin Blake)
8. My Friend Rabbit (Eric Rohmann)
9. How Do Dinosaurs Clean Their Rooms (and the other How Do Dinosaurs books all by Jane Yolen)
10. Rosie's Walk (Pat Hutchins)
11. Dr. Seuss books: Green Eggs and Ham, Fox in Sox, The Cat in the Hat, Hop on Pop, Oh The Places You'll Go
12. The Wind Blew (Pat Hutchins)
13. The Day the Babies Crawled Away (Peggy Rathmann)
14. I Spy Christmas: A Book of Picture Riddles
15. My Book About Me (Dr. Seuss & Roy McKie)
16. The Giving Tree (Shel Silverstein)
17. Oh Say Can You Say Di-no-saur? (The Cat in the Hat's Learning Library)
18. Clown (Quentin Blake)
19. Piggybook (Anthony Browne)
20. Diary of a Worm (Doreen Cronin)
November 10, 2011
November 7, 2011
Tantrum Quantum
My baby threw a tantrum, and I was there to catch the darn thing.
It's 1 pm. The usual time for his afternoon nap. But today, he wanted to get his way. So the brat decided to act out. He is a genius in the art form. He has no qualms in using this weapon when it helps achieve the end for which he thinks he was created: to piss off his parents. The Jesuits follow the same principle. Tantum quantum. In so far as it helps. My, my. Kid's just 5 but he's already on the road to sainthood.
"Nap time!" I told him. "No!" he snapped. "No TV," I threatened. He glared at me before marching up the stairs. Score 1 for mommy. Baby - 0. He lay down on his bed, but refused to stay still. He kept tossing and turning, tossing and turning, while I inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, certain that in about 20 minutes he'd grow tired of his game and doze off. He didn't. Time to change tactic, I decided. So I started rubbing his back, while singing his favorite lullaby to lull him to sleep. He started mimicking me, but making a rap version of my song. "Stop that!" I told him. "Stop that!" he echoed. "If you don't stop it, no TV!" I retorted, smelling my victory already at hand. For a split second, defiance was written allover his face. Ha, ha! Who's the bigger brat now?! Then all of a sudden, the floodgates opened. He just needed to turn on a switch, the brat. The wailing and flailing began. The way he did it, the whole neighborhood would believe I'm physically abusing him! I ordered him to shush. He ignored me, and added stomping to his repertoire.
Usually, it's a fight to the death between us. Me hurling more threats, him crying louder. But it has been a long week. I was tired, and menstruating. I just wanted to be alone in my bedroom and figure out a way to get past 23 flags in Plants & Zombie, survival endless mode. So I did what any mature woman would do in that kind of situation. I threw in the towel. "Wanna watch Disney Junior with ate?" I asked politely.
He stared at me for a few seconds, and almost immediately the crying stopped. Then he flashed his impish grin. He knew he won. Damn, he's good.
Well...he may have won this battle, but not the war, certainly not. I may have retreated, but only temporarily - it's the cramping that did me in I know. I'll be back with a vengeance, he'll see. The li'l imp better watch his back.
It's 1 pm. The usual time for his afternoon nap. But today, he wanted to get his way. So the brat decided to act out. He is a genius in the art form. He has no qualms in using this weapon when it helps achieve the end for which he thinks he was created: to piss off his parents. The Jesuits follow the same principle. Tantum quantum. In so far as it helps. My, my. Kid's just 5 but he's already on the road to sainthood.
"Nap time!" I told him. "No!" he snapped. "No TV," I threatened. He glared at me before marching up the stairs. Score 1 for mommy. Baby - 0. He lay down on his bed, but refused to stay still. He kept tossing and turning, tossing and turning, while I inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, certain that in about 20 minutes he'd grow tired of his game and doze off. He didn't. Time to change tactic, I decided. So I started rubbing his back, while singing his favorite lullaby to lull him to sleep. He started mimicking me, but making a rap version of my song. "Stop that!" I told him. "Stop that!" he echoed. "If you don't stop it, no TV!" I retorted, smelling my victory already at hand. For a split second, defiance was written allover his face. Ha, ha! Who's the bigger brat now?! Then all of a sudden, the floodgates opened. He just needed to turn on a switch, the brat. The wailing and flailing began. The way he did it, the whole neighborhood would believe I'm physically abusing him! I ordered him to shush. He ignored me, and added stomping to his repertoire.
Usually, it's a fight to the death between us. Me hurling more threats, him crying louder. But it has been a long week. I was tired, and menstruating. I just wanted to be alone in my bedroom and figure out a way to get past 23 flags in Plants & Zombie, survival endless mode. So I did what any mature woman would do in that kind of situation. I threw in the towel. "Wanna watch Disney Junior with ate?" I asked politely.
He stared at me for a few seconds, and almost immediately the crying stopped. Then he flashed his impish grin. He knew he won. Damn, he's good.
Well...he may have won this battle, but not the war, certainly not. I may have retreated, but only temporarily - it's the cramping that did me in I know. I'll be back with a vengeance, he'll see. The li'l imp better watch his back.
November 1, 2011
Our DIY Christmas Tree
My son has been asking for a Christmas tree since 2009. Didn't want to buy a traditional tree which costs around 5k. It's the Ilocana in me, I guess :-). Plus I really don't have space to store it once the holiday season is over. So I looked around the house for stuff that we could 'recycle'. All I needed: lots of books, lots of hand-me-down xmas decors (thanks to my sister) and lots of free time. Ho-ho-ho!
October 20, 2011
Happy Meal, Happy Me
How much to make my kid happy? Just Php99. Seriously.
Aside from his smile, that price includes a 1-piece chicken with drink, and a Batman toy made in China (lead-free, of course...I hope...).
Yeah, I know. It's fast food. High in calories, fat, sugar, high in everything - except the price, just want to emphasize. But eating junk once in a while won't kill him (now stressing too much over the food pyramid, on the other hand, might). Besides, it's good for the soul. My soul, at least. Because my heart expands at the mere sight of my son giddy with excitement, eating his Happy Meal in his happy place, and completely engrossed with pulling out the limbs of his platic toy. Ahw. Love ko 'to.
February 11, 2008
It Takes A Village
Four adults take turns in raising my 1 year old son. I tried to do it on my own after he was born. Breastfed him, bathed him, cleaned his crap while hubbie was at work. I didn't go crazy. My husband did, though. I bit his head off every time he came home from work. Hey, it's no joke staying at home the whole day just watching the baby and Lifestyle Network! I admire women who find genuine joy in just being housewives, who can just ogle at their babies the whole day and experience nirvana. Unfortunately, I ain't that kind of girl. Two months after giving birth, I hired maid #1 to cook, clean, wash dishes and to help me with the baby. A pair of extra hands didn't seem enough though. Two months after, I hired maid #2 to help maid #1 with her job. With my husband, that makes 4 people taking care of Phoenix 24/7. But at the end of each day, why am I still tired? Why are the four of us exhausted?
Maybe because of the Daily Grind? The Daily Grind: the 2 maids cater to his needs (aside from catering to our needs): morning walk, down and up three flights of stairs. Baby Einstein video. Breakfast. After-breakfast crap. Running around the condo unit, around the furniture, under the furniture, sometimes attempting to go through the furniture. Bath time. Nap time. Diaper change every 2 hours. Lunch. Replay of all activities after lunch. Mommy comes home from 8-hour job to find yayas exhausted. Mommy caters to his needs, primarily his need to be carried and hugged (he's almost 30 lbs, that brat!) Daddy comes home after his 10-hour job and finds mommy and yayas exhausted. Daddy caters to his needs, too, primarily his need to be in perpetual motion even at 8 p.m. When the baby falls asleep at around 9, my husband and I try to have time together, you know, just to chat, relax, have a little somethin'-somethin'-wink-wink. The operative word is TRY. Many times, we just succumb to our primal need to sleep on clean sheets.
Sometimes I am tempted to have the yayas take care of him more so I can have my "artist day" or more time with my husband. But they also need a break from the brat. My husband and I do, too but hey, he's our kid, not theirs. I'm tempted to call in for reinforcement and ask my mom to stay with us. But she's in another village, helping to raise my precocious 4-year old niece.
Maybe because of the Daily Grind? The Daily Grind: the 2 maids cater to his needs (aside from catering to our needs): morning walk, down and up three flights of stairs. Baby Einstein video. Breakfast. After-breakfast crap. Running around the condo unit, around the furniture, under the furniture, sometimes attempting to go through the furniture. Bath time. Nap time. Diaper change every 2 hours. Lunch. Replay of all activities after lunch. Mommy comes home from 8-hour job to find yayas exhausted. Mommy caters to his needs, primarily his need to be carried and hugged (he's almost 30 lbs, that brat!) Daddy comes home after his 10-hour job and finds mommy and yayas exhausted. Daddy caters to his needs, too, primarily his need to be in perpetual motion even at 8 p.m. When the baby falls asleep at around 9, my husband and I try to have time together, you know, just to chat, relax, have a little somethin'-somethin'-wink-wink. The operative word is TRY. Many times, we just succumb to our primal need to sleep on clean sheets.
Sometimes I am tempted to have the yayas take care of him more so I can have my "artist day" or more time with my husband. But they also need a break from the brat. My husband and I do, too but hey, he's our kid, not theirs. I'm tempted to call in for reinforcement and ask my mom to stay with us. But she's in another village, helping to raise my precocious 4-year old niece.
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