I Love Being A Husband and Dad

When I was in business school, I met Frances during my first week and was immediately smitten. I found every excuse to hang out with her. But we didn't start dating until November of 2003. I'm pretty sure I knew soon after that she was the one. We got engaged in June 2004 and then married in June 2005. I still remember friends who wondered, "Dude, you're going to be a banker in NYC. Why would you get tied down now?" Well, we're twenty years in and it has had it's ups and downs, but there's not a day where I don't wake up thankful for the family I have. Frances, Ryan and Riley are my everything. 

"You're So Hard On Me!"

It's not easy finding the balance of pushing a child hard without going too far. This past week, I went to far with Riley. We got into a heated discussion about his takeaway and why he's always losing the right path and finally he says "You're so hard on me!" It got me thinking and ultimately, I sent him this email: 

I know I am hard on you… if you ever wonder why, Earl Woods, Tiger’s dad, once said “I make him practice, I push him, because I know what he’s capable of. I see the greatness in him that he doesn’t yet see in himself.”

 

Similarly, Venus / Serena Williams’ father said “I pushed them hard because I saw champions in them before they even held a racket right. You don’t get to greatness by being soft – you get there by knowing someone believes in you enough to demand it.”

 

Here’s the thing and if you don’t believe me, ask mom. I believed in your potential to be great long before you could break par or started winning tournaments. I still remember the first time I took you to the driving range in Arcadia. I may suck at golf, but I understand sports and I know that most people will never be able to hit a golf ball well while a select few have the innate talent to potentially be great. I could see that talent from the first ball you hit. I told mom that day that I wanted to get you started on golf. I will also never forget your first tournament. The day before, we practiced for 3-4 hours in the blazing sun. Ryan was crying because he wanted to go home but you sat there and hit 3’ putts over and over. I knew then that you had the discipline and grit to be a great golfer.

 

I am so proud of you. Not really because of the results (that’s for you to enjoy) but because of your process. Your willingness to learn, to practice the right way, to grind endlessly, and the desire to be great. You have a talent that few kids are blessed with. So then as a father, how can I help? You know I am terrible at golf. I can’t help you swing better. But I can help you understand and realize your potential to achieve greatness and that means being hard on you because only through challenge can you truly maximize your outcome. It’s why I push you to practice smarter, like working on your takeaway religiously. It’s why I push you to challenge yourself, not by hitting the shots you like, but rather hitting the shots you hate and think you’ll never use. It’s why I push you to build mental strength, by teaching you to find answers and to pull yourself up, not down.

 

Look, when you achieve your golf goals someday, 99.9% of it will be because of you. But that 0.1% I can help you on? It’s not by being your friend or telling you how amazing you are. It’s by extracting every last ounce of talent you have so that you leave nothing on the table when you’re done. It’s instilling that discipline – remember what we have on the wall – to do what you don’t want to do when you don’t want to do it.

 

So, you will get annoyed and you’ll get frustrated. But I won’t stop pushing. But just remember what your goals are and what you are capable of. Greatness. Just like Tiger. Just like Serena. Just like Venus. That’s what I’ve seen in you since day 1.

 

Love Dad.

Not A Good Sports Week, LOL

After a three month hiatus because he didn't play for the school team this year, Ryan finally re-started soccer for his club team. And proceeded to tweak his hammy at his first practice and then somehow sprain his ankle in bed at night. So he's not sure when he'll play next...

Meanwhile, Riley came crashing back to earth today at his first tournament since his win a couple weeks ago and decided to shoot an 89. Oof.

"What The Hell?"

One of the boys' YouTube stars is Steven He, who's famous line is "What the hell?" So, it was ironic that at Riley's lesson yesterday, his coach Angel saw his backswing and could not stop saying "What the hell?" because it was so mangled. Thankfully we got it fixed up, but it was ugly to start!

The Golf Grind

 Riley won his first "big boy" golf tournament last weekend at Alondra Park shooting a 74 (+2) to win by a stroke, while also beating the 15-18 age group winner. But what I'm proudest of is how hard the boy grinds, day after day, hour after hour. Usually with his intructor and/or me and almost never with his friends, which would obviously be more fun. 

Math Is Life

 Ryan is taking pre-calculus this year. What he doesn't know is that I flamed out in college math, which is why I dropped out of the engineering school after freshman year. Everything up to Algebra II was a breeze. But pre-calc is starting to stretch my limits. I'm still able to gradually figure things out and thank god for all the math resources online but the day is coming when I'm going to have to tap out. Which will be a sad day for me but I guess that's what life is about - in everything, the hope is that our kids will eventually surpass you and achieve greater heights!

So... A Lot Has Happened In 12 Years

What's happened since the last blog post in December 2011? Well, we spent a decade in the Bay Area, but decided to move to LA during COVID. That was a crazy time, but the joy we've had in the 2.5 years since made all that hassle worth it.

Ryan is a high school sophomore. Working his butt off in a school like a good Asian kid should, while also trying to make a run at DIII soccer. Looking back, the COVID years really cost him but he's making a hard run at it and we'll see. As parents, Frances and I are trying to find the optimal balance of keeping the pressure on Ryan but at the same time, giving him breathing room and letting him find his own way in life. While a lot has changed, some things remain the same. The boy is still the happiest kid we know, who bounces back from bad test scores, losing soccer games, and getting yelled at so quickly that we often wonder how he does it. He doesn't get too high on things, which sometimes drives this type A dad nuts, but it also means he never gets too low. Never change, my dear son!

Riley is a 7th grader. He was always the more prickly one and definitely the one who we thought would be more difficult. And, yeah, that's been the case. He gets annoyed easily, has a super strong personality and has an insatiable desire to win. But, he's still a sweet kid, even though he probably gets in trouble more than Ryan ever did at this age. He seems bright enough, but whereas Ryan always had an impeccable work ethic, I think we're still keeping an eye on Riley... he seems to coast through school and his grades are great, but we wonder whether he needs to be pushed harder. Where Riley has excelled is as a golfer. He figured out early on that he really enjoyed the sport and didn't mind grinding... we'll see how far he can take it, but this past weekend, he won his first tournament from 6500 as a newly minted 13-yo and actually shot better than everyone else, including from the 15 - 18 age group!

Ah, and I'd be remiss not to mention that Frances still loves her pie and chocolate cake. And if you get in the way of her getting either when she really wants it, you better watch out.

Maybe I'll try to keep this updated a bit better going forward...

Riley Taking His First Steps

Actually, Riley Taking His First Step... He can only take one, then he falls on his butt.

A Few "Ryan-isms"

Teacher: Ryan, do you want to come practice wrapping gifts with us?
Ryan: No, thank you.
Teacher: Why not?
Ryan: I already have a lot of gifts underneath the Christmas tree

At the Yew Chung playground: Ryan and friends are driving their trikes, when one kid stops his trike for no reason in front of Ryan.
Ryan: Hey, what's the big idea? Beep. beep.
Ryan: You gotta be s--tting me!

Carl: Ryan, you get three gifts for Christmas. What do you want?
Ryan: A Lightning McQueen car, a bike and a Santa.
Carl: Why do you want a Santa?
Ryan: So he can bring me lots of gifts

Poor Riley, Doesn't Get His Own Blog

It's way too busy with two kids, as evidenced by the 11-months since the last set of posts. Riley is a a great sleeper (8PM - 5:30AM) but a horrendous feeder. It's nice to have a 6-month old and still look human at work each day, which wasn't the case with Ryan.

Why are we moving to California? As much as I love New York, you can only take sirens waking up the kids, which happened tonight, so many times.

A Touching Moment

Last night, Ryan treated his great grandfather in Taiwan with a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday for his 89th birthday. It's too bad that Ah-Zhou couldn't see the body movement, smile and clapping as he sang. And to top it all off, he then sang it again in Mandarin.

A Final July 4th in New York

For Ryan's last 4th of July in NYC, I thought I'd keep him awake until 9:30 and show him the fireworks. So, at 9:15, I dimmed the lights and opened our shades, convinced that our 270 degree view would capture some of the show.

At 9:30, I woke Ryan up and he walked out like a tired zombie and sat on the couch, and... crickets. The f%@#$*g fireworks were literally only visible in the 90 degrees of non-view that we had. For the next 5 minutes, I showed Ryan what he was missing on TV. After a few disinterested and groggy "yeahs", I let him go back to sleep.

I was literally depressed all night.

Haircuts

Haircuts can be miserable...


And can lead to outcomes like:

THE JAG:

Courtesy of Dad (June 2009)

AND EVERYONE'S FAVORITE ASIAN CUT, THE BOWL:

Courtesy of Grandma Chiou (December 2009)

So for all the newbie parents who want to achieve haircut nirvana:

(July 2010)

All you need to know are the magic words, "Meeska, Mousska, Mickey Mouse!":

Sleep

The other day, we dropped Ryan off at Christine's house during the afternoon, and instead of taking a nap, he thought it be much more fun to play with his cousin and grandparents. All was well until 5:30PM when he started yawning incessantly. By 7PM, he was a slobbering mess -nothing I could do quieted him and anything, from brushing his teeth to putting on his jammies, led to big, wet tears and frantic cries for help.

This brought back memories, because for the first 16 months of his life, Ryan was that legendary "bad sleeper". He didn't go through a single night without waking up until 10 months. Then, for a couple month stretch, he started sleeping decently well... until he caught the flu, which set him back to 5 A.B. (5 months After Birth). Then it became a nasty cycle, where the lack of sleep made him grouchy during the day and then the grouchiness made him difficult to put to bed. Until tonight, I'd forgotten how bad it could be...

The Little Human

Tonight, Ryan and I were having a little jam session, dancing to his favorite music CD. Unfortunately, he stomped on his favorite toy truck and smashed the rear axle, causing one of the tires to pop off in a permanent fashion.

He seemed stunned and didn't know how to react. Until I told him he had broken the truck, at which point, he immediately burst into tears and ran for Mommy. On the one hand, it was really sad seeing his reaction because he loves that truck. On the other hand, it was really cool, because I think this was the first time he'd shown real emotion after realizing what had happened.

Silence of the Lambs

Today, Frances picked Ryan up from school. When she got there, one of the teachers quietly pulled her aside and said "He bit someone." This probably ranks between # 2 - 4 of "Top Ten Things You Don't Want To Hear From Your 2-Year Old's Teacher," right below them telling you that your child has decided to share any number of things about your personal life with his class.

According to the sole witness, Ryan was peddling around on a tricycle and one of the kids decided to hitch a ride on the back. At some point, Ryan turned around and bit the kid in the face. I'm still trying to figure out why they're working Ryan like a mule at school, but I'll save that for the next parent-teacher conference.

I'm not sure what the first question you're supposed to ask is when a teacher tells you this. Frances' question was "Who was it?" I supposed that's not a bad one, although I think would have been "Is the victim alright?"

First Trip to Chelsea!

To celebrate our 5th anniversary, Frances and I (along with Ryan) decided to have dinner at Scarpetta, in the "way too trendy for us" Meatpacking District. We were brimming with excitement, as we were finally returning to the world of fine dining after a nearly year-long hiatus - for my last birthday we went to Eleven Madison and for some still unknown reason, the waiter gave 1-year old Ryan a pack of crayons, which he proceded to use to defile the white tablecloth and earn us a self-imposed ban at nice restaurants. I mean, talk about setting a kid up to get in trouble.

This excursion seemed to start off where our last one ended. As we approached the restaurant, I noticed Ryan keep scratching his a--. He said nothing was wrong, but then he kept scratching. Finally, we picked him up and... he'd soiled his pants with a nasty case of diarrhea. On the verge of heading home in defeat, I came through in the clutch and remembered the BuyBuyBaby nearby. 35 minutes later, with a pair of $4.99 sweats on his sore butt, we were seated at our booth.

Dinner was good but unmemorable. Afterwards, we decided to take a walk through Chelsea Market and it was awesome. I picked up some Ventresca at Buon Italia and then we hit People Pops, where Ryan and I shared an apricot / chamomile pop. He absolutely loved it and ate far more than his fair share.

On our way out, we happened on one of the pianos that are part of a really cool art project, Street Pianos NYC:


Ryan immediately hopped on and started banging away on the keys. Pretty soon a small crowd had gathered, as he seemed to play with such poise and determination. With much regret, we finally had to leave, but not before he did a little bow for his adoring fans. To top it all off, as we hit 10th Ave, we bumped into Sunny Anderson, Food Network show host, who asked us whether he was the little boy she'd just seen playing the piano. Admittedly, in the world of NY celebrities, this is a pretty C or D list encounter, but it was still pretty cool.

To top off the evening, we walked up to the High Line park. If you haven't gone up there, it is amazing and one of the more successful urban beautification projects I've ever seen. Ryan went crazy running around the park and climbing the benches and other structures. Finally exhausted, we all went home for some well deserved R&R.

There are days I wish Frances and I had more alone time, but this wasn't one of them. It's a good life to live in NYC and have time to explore with loved ones and I'll miss it someday if I ever move away from here.

Am I a Bad Father?

Recently, Ryan has started to bite me. Nothing hard. But sometimes, when I'm holding him, he'll nip me on the shoulder. It doesn't hurt all that much, I just get annoyed.

Tonight, I retaliated and bit him back. On the arm, like a mother lion might do to an overly rambunctious cub. Not enough to create teeth marks, just enough to startle.

Anyways, he cried like a banshee. I think he was just shocked that I would do that to him. Frances was shocked also. If you ask me, I think he deserved it. But let's put it too a vote...

1st Days at Camp Claremont

Ryan just started his 6 week summer camp, which is a prelude to his starting "real" preschool after Labor Day. As you can see from the pics below, he's loving it so far.




The "big event" during the first couple weeks of preschool is "separation", where the child successfully / fails to free themselves from their caregiver during class. We were really worried about this process because Ryan is a big mama's boy. Well... we had nothing to worry about - three days into camp and he's basically running around on his own and doesn't even give Frances a second look.

Little Manhattan

When Frances and I moved to New York, we watched one of the cutest movies I've ever seen, "Little Manhattan." It's a "rom-com" about a 10 3/4 year old kid living in the Upper West Side who falls in love with an 11 year old girl. Yeah, yeah, I know, it sounds stupid, yet it's kind of endearing.

But what really stuck with me is that the kid gets around the city on a little scooter. I can't even explain why, but it just seemed so cool and ever since Ryan was born, I've waited for the day that I can get him a scooter so he too can roam the UWS.

That day is here. A long-belated birthday gift from Christine, we finally got Ryan's scooter and he absolutely loves it. It took him about 15 minutes to figure out and now he can't stop motoring around on it. Ladies on the UWS, watch out!

Unfortunately, I can't let Ryan watch the movie. He refuses to put on his helmet and only does so when I tell him all the kids with scooters wear helmets. Except, Gabe in the movie does not. You know how people complain that smoking in movies sets a bad example? Maybe I should write the director and tell him he's setting a bad example for Ryan, riding all recklessly without a helmet

Strawberry Picking

Ryan's favorite fruit is strawberries. And June is the peak of strawberry season, so I thought it would be fun to go pick strawberries.

Anyways, we got there and he really had no interest in picking strawberries. When I realized strawberries grow on low-lying plants, which required me to squat and dig through thorny weeds to find the strawberries, I really had no interest either.

He did delight in chasing after the tractor, feeding the donkey and harassing the rabbits.

Postscript (6/14/2010):  Apparently, strawberry picking works muscles I haven't used in years.  My hammies are crazy-sore.

Make Up Your D--n Mind!

I took a class in business school called "Managerial Decision Making." One of the concepts we learned was that if you have too many choices, it leads to indecision and potentially, outright confusion. What I've learned in 2+ years of fatherhood is that this trait manifests itself at a very early age.

When Ryan was younger, we used to take him to this Korean noodle joint where a cheery grandma makes hand-pulled noodles. We called it "po po mian" or Grandma's noodles and he loved it. Every weekend he'd ask for "po po mian". One time, we even sat down at another place in K-town and Ryan started crying because he wanted to go to "po po mian". So we had to get up from our seats, walk out of restaurant and go across the street to his noodle place.

During the last couple months, we started introducing new types of noodles to him, one of which is Ramen. And he loves it also.

All you non-parents are sitting there saying, that's great. He's an awesome eater. But we're not done with the story yet.

Tonight, he said he wanted "po po mian", so we got in the car to go to K-town. Halfway there, he says he doesn't want this, but instead wants Ramen. So, we go to the Ramen joint instead. We order and as soon as the food comes, he starts whining that it's not "po po mian". He ended up eating 5 bites and then going on a hunger strike.

Seriously dude. Make a decision and stick with it.

My Son is a Fob...

One of Ryan's favorite activities is dancing to music. Until recently, he's mostly listened to kiddie songs and loves "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." But, a couple weeks ago, we introduced him to some Chinese pop stars, like Guang Liang and Jay Chou. So now, he insists on listening to songs like "Di Yi Ci", a.k.a. the "The First Time", which is a sappy love ballad with an appropriately vomit inducing music video., or "Ting Mama De Hua", a.k.a. "Listen to Your Mother", which believe it or not is a rap song.

For those of you who either want to mock me and my son or who are curious what Chinese "gangsta" rap sounds like, you can easily find these videos on here or here.

Hopefully, he picks up some other fobbish tendencies, like studying really hard and becoming a doctor.

So who's fault is this? Let me see... I was born in Kansas and went to high school with 2 other Chinese people. Frances lived in Taiwan until she was 8 and grew up in Arcadia, California. Next question please.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Little Guy!

We celebrated Ryan's 2nd today. While his first birthday party was pretty low key with family, we had to go a little all-out this time around because we're now part of the birthday party circuit. Since all the kids in our circle of friends have had amazing parties (soccer theme, transportation museum, circus theme, petting zoo), we had to do something nice as well. So we had a theme (pirates) designed by our very own party planner. I'm not sure Ryan really got it, but he seemed to have a good time.

Taiwan, Part II

This time, Ryan was out of the belly. And frankly, I'm not sure Taiwan was ready for him. This is an actual quote from my grandmother: "It was so great to see you guys. Ok, why don't you guys come back in a couple years when Ryan is more mature and behaves a little better." Ok, I guess he was a little terror, due to a combination of jet lag and unfamiliarity to anyone. But, it really did make me incredibly emotional when he did open up on a few occasions and hug my grandparents while laying big, slobbery kisses on them.

Oh yeah, I love this picture. He was obsessed with this penguin statue at a bookstore:

In at Preschool a.k.a. Welcome to the Rat Race

New York is famous for being competitive. Everything is a race - your career, your apartment, your dating life, it's all fair game. During my five years in the City, I've grown accustomed to it. What's crazy is that for those who are un(fortunate) enough to be born here, you get to spend your first year and a half chillin' out, and then, bam!, time to start working.

The pre-school admissions process is insane. Remember applying to college or graduate school and how painful that process was? Now remember that the typical preschool applicant (your child) is still unable to talk, has just learned to walk and on a good day, remembers to wipe his / her mouth when he / she drools (although, mine often doesn't). It's as much fun as it sounds.

The craziness starts the day after Labor Day. Basically, you start calling your preferred pre-schools and hope someone picks up and takes your information down so you can get an application. Since we were in LA that weekend, we ended up waking up at 5AM to start calling. For one school, Frances and I ended up hitting repeat dial for 45 minutes before we got through.  Another school neglected to tell people that you could get an application online, probably because they like to see their switchboard light up.

A couple days later, we got our first rejection. One of the schools deemed Ryan unworthy of even an application. Sure, we got a nice letter with the typical "Every year, we have more applicants than spots in our school...", except this one basically ended with "...so we're just going to cut through the bulls--t and not even bother letting you apply."

In the end, we managed to send out applications for five schools. Did I mention you have to write essays for these applications? Lots of them, addressing Ryan's temperment, our dreams and aspirations, his strengths and weaknesses, and his career goals. Ok, so I'm kidding about the last one.

Then, the fun really started:

1) Parent interviews (so they could determine whether we were wearing expensive enough clothes to become a benefactor)

2) Child playdates (so they could see whether Ryan would bite the other kids in class)

3) Thank you letters after every interaction (so they could see how desperately we wanted to get in their school

4) Open Houses (so we could hear about how awesome all the kids who have gone to each school are)

And then, finally, Admissions Day, when all the schools email / mail / call with their decisions. All the parents sit around waiting nervously all day and the NY PD / FD are on high alert for those who don't get into their first or second choice. The good news is, we got one of those fat envelopes. The bad news is, that envelope is going to cost me 5 figures a year. All you finance types, why don't you send me the NPV on that, so I can pull that out if Ryan ever says he wants to study the arts...  The good news is, that Ryan is now set for life and is guaranteed to get into an Ivy League college, or at least that's what they told us.

For any of you who enjoyed reading this and want to see it in real-life or simply don't believe me, definitely rent "Nursery University." I kid you not, this is very real, very scary and only happens in New York. That is, unless you count the IIT admissions process, which I heard is pretty pressure packed also.

And we didn't even apply to the truly elite top-tier preschools, where the power players in law, finance and the arts send their kids. But, if you want to hear about that part of the world, I hear Jack Grubman has some real insight.

"I'm Not a Monster, I'm Just Misunderstood!"

Disclaimer: No actors (or young children) were harmed in creating this picture.

Every Asian Kid Eventually Gets a Bowl Cut

My mom, who babysits Ryan every once in awhile, is a typical Asian mom. She is an awesome grandmother - in fact, I trust her so much that when it came time to find a nanny for Ryan, I couldn't find anyone that met my mom's standard and she actually ended up taking care of him during the day until he was almost one year old.

But, there is a catch. The catch is she needs to do things her own way. So, inevitably, we'll pick him up and he'll be wearing his diaper in a funky position or she'll mention that she fed him some random food that we asked her not to. On the most recent visit, Ryan's hair was apparently too long and annoying her, so she took matters into her own hands. More accurately, she took her scissors into her own hands... Except, I think she had a couple drinks before she actually cut his hair.

Anyways, I still love you Mom and so does Ryan.

We're Back

It's been 5+ months since the last post and Ryan just celebrated his 1st birthday. He's now able to crawl, roll-over, giggle and drool. You can't really ask for much more than that. But at some point, he's gotta start doing some algebra or playing the violin.

Ryan's Born

Suffice it to say, things never come easy for a Chiou... the delivery process took 19 hours, we saw forceps and a vacuum, way too many epidural docs and one too few ob/gyn who decided to take a "family" day today. Frances was a trooper through the whole ordeal - I know I married her for a reason.

By the way, the little one's name is not Hayden. Parentals all hated it. For reasons that cannot be discussed on a semi-public forum. Ryan it is.

Ryan Christopher Chiou. Born March 22nd, 2008. 7lbs, 3 ozs and 20 inches long.

The Baby Formerly Known as Boo

We've finally decided on a name - Hayden. A little Caucasian sounding, but we really like the way it rolls. I suppose the next step is to figure out his Chinese name. Hopefully, that will take less than 8 more months. But then again, there's probably some rule of "auspiciousity" that requires a longer process.

Birds and the Bees

Baby boo now weighs 5 pounds and is 18 inches long. When I was kid, I got the whole lecture about the birds and the bees, but no one ever explained how the hell 18 inches of baby is fitting in Frances' tummy. It can't be very comfortable, which is probably why he's always poking around!

Valentine's Day

For our last V-Day as a "single" couple, we had a very simple dinner:

- Roasted branzino
- Gemelli tossed with garlic, basil and cherry tomatoes
- Roasted white asparagus
- Strawberry triffle

I also picked up a chocolate cherry loaf from Bouchon at lunch time. Dark, rich chocolate laced with perfectly tart cherries, and a little bread to fill the gaps. That was my only gift to Frances. Some would say that was unromantic. But trust me, an 8 month pregnant woman will take this over roses any day.

The Name Game

We are really struggling with a name. Word of advice? Don't buy a baby name book. What the hell am I supposed to do with a list of 10,000 names?

No one is naming their kid Edipo, or "He of the swollen feet." What is that, some Asian fetish? No one is going to be naming their kid Moyolehuani, or "The enamored one." No one will ever be enamored with that name. It sucks, no matter what country you are from. Unless you are of Aztec descent, in which case I apologize profusely.

By the way, in 2006 Moyolehuani was the 17,848 most popular name. Number 18,439 in 2007. So, why did it make a list of 10,000 names? Aren't there 8,438 better names that should have made it into the book first?

Then you've got the parents who name their kids Lankesh, a Hindu demon king. Why would anyone name their kid after a demon king? Lesson for parents... naming your team mascot after a demon is good. Blue Devils, for example, are cool, even if anyone not from Duke hates them. Naming your kid after one is not.

Note to the editor. Cut the crappy names. No one wants to use them. I'll pay more for a book with relevant names. Quality, not quantity.

End rant.

Parenting Class

Every Tuesday night for the next 4 weeks, we have a parenting class from 6:30 - 9:30. While I'm learning a lot about things we can do to make the pre- and post-pregnancy a little easier, it's also been very entertaining seeing how other parents are weathering the change in their life.

On the first day, each couple had to introduce themselves. One of the wives said she and her husband were married in 2006. The husband quickly spoke up and corrected his wife, chiding her that they had been married in 2005. I saw the wife seething, which I assumed was because she didn't like being embarassed in class. 5 minutes later, the husband stood up and offered an apology for the class, because sure enough, they had been married in 2006. That's unfortunate for the husband. What's worse than being dumb? Being dumb and not knowing it.

During the second class, the husbands and wives split up and were asked to come up with what the were scared about during this process. The wives had a very thoughtful list. Clearly, they were taking this seriously. The husbands also took this very seriously. We wanted to know the following:

1) What if my baby is dumb?
2) What if my baby is ugly?
3) What if my wife doesn't lose all her weight?

I truly was only worried about whether Frances and I will ever find "alone" time with each other again. Needless to say, I had to maintain my "cool" factor and didn't speak up.

Taiwan Trip (12/21 - 1/04)

Apologies for how quiet the blog has been in the past weeks. Once we got back from Taiwan, it's been a scramble to get ready for our pending arrival. Unfortunately, blogging is a luxury I can't afford.

Taiwan was great. We were really worried that Frances couldn't travel with her stomach but everything worked out well. The seats were uncomfortable, but given her small frame, she fit in snugly, big belly and all.

While there, her belly really took a turn for the better. Must have been all the fantastic food we ate. We hit Shilin Night Market and some old favorites from Frances' younger days. I would say she gained a good 6 - 7 pounds out there.

I came back inspired after the trip. Since then, I've really dived back into cooking dinner each night, relishing our trips to Flushing to pick up whatever veggies and meats we need for the week. We haven't had to have take-out during the week this year.

And for the poor Upper Westsiders who think Ollie's is good Chinese food, I'm sorry. It's not good. The name is a dead giveaway. It's bad enough when Americanized Chinese restaurants give themselves authentic sounding names like "Golden Dragon" and then disappoint with their Chef's Specialty of Beef and Broccoli or some other lame dish. But calling your restaurant Ollie's? That's not even trying.

*6/11/2010 Postscript - I was right. Ollie's sucks. They are closing down one by one.

Baby Shopping

It's been quiet on the blog, but it's been busy the last couple weeks as we scramble to get ready for our trip to Taiwan. We've tried to pick out as many of the big items as possible in the last week as we realized a lot of things can take a couple months to deliver.

Today's topic is the stroller. I remember growing up with an umbrella stroller, one of those really rickety ones that cost under $20. And I grew up to be a reasonably normal adult. So, for the past year, I've mocked the Upper Westsiders for their obsession with the Bugaboo. For the uninitiated, please see here: God's Gift to Baby Gear.

Yes, the Bugaboo is outrageously priced and there's clearly a "show and tell" factor, but I've come to accept its greatness. It's maneuverability is unparalleled and in NYC, maneuverability is key. So, even if 95% of the babies who have a Bugaboo eventually become spoiled brats, I'm willing to take the risk.

Baby Boo is Kicking!

Today, I felt the baby kick for the first time. You can barely feel it and it's a bit of a flutter, but it's reassuring to feel once in awhile as if he's saying everything's OK.

It's a Boy!

We'll be accepting submissions for names. Any winning suggestions will be duly noted.

Sonogram from November 7th, 2007 (Week 21)

Baby Boo weighs 16 ounces and is the size of a mango.

Heard on the Street (57th and Lex to be exact)

On Sunday, we went to Destination Maternity to buy clothes for Frances. The great thing about this store is that they know exactly who their target audience is: pregnant women and their husbands, who would rather be anywhere else but there.

To DM's credit, they have put in an inordinate amount of thought to make this experience as comfortable as possible. For the moms-to-be, there are snacks and drinks to tame growling stomachs. And for the men? A flat screen tv tuned to the NFL and plush leather armchairs. This prompted one excited dad-to-be to exclaim:

Maternity clothes shopping is AWESOME!

I concur.

No More Midnight Snacks!

We received results from the 2nd round of genetic testing and everything was fine. Only another few weeks until we can determine the sex!

The only news of note is that our doctor called Frances fat. Ok, maybe Dr. Wong wasn't that crude, but she did say that Frances should watch her weight gain. She's currently at 112.5. This means no more late night bowls of ramen or soup. And we'll have to cut back on ice cream. Pretty depressing, if you ask me.

I Am a Good Husband

Tonight, Frances will have pie. Peach pie. I stopped by the farmer's market on the way to work and picked one up. Of course, she'll probably have a different craving today, but at least I tried.

So, Tell Me What You Want, What You Really Really Want...

We all know pregnant women have cravings. Since July, Frances has gone through cycles of root beer floats, green apples, grapes and chocolate milk. And I'd like to think that I've done a good job of keeping pace, at least until last night. We were watching Desparate Housewives and one of the women made a lemon meringue pie. So next thing I know, at 9:38PM, Frances wanted pie. But she wanted peach pie, which is out of season now.

Therein lies the challenge. I can't pre-empt the craving by buying a pie beforehand because never in a million years would I have guessed that she would want peach pie on October 7th, 2008. I couldn't buy it in real-time because the craving didn't hit until all the bakeries were closed. And if I had gone and bought it for tonight's dinner, the craving was already gone.

For all you fathers-to-be who have experienced this, don't feel like a failure. Sometimes, the whims of a pregnant woman can get even the best of us.

Mosey on Out

Baby Boo needs more space. At least that's our story. So, no, we didn't move into a larger apartment because Carl wanted to have his own temporary office. And it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that this apartment has a washer / dryer because Carl loves doing the laundry with me during the weekends.

After a weekend full of packing and four days of unpacking, we're finally settled into our new home. It's quite relieving to actually have some space to move around.

Things are looking good

Two Fridays ago, we received the results back from our first round of screening for genetic / birth defects and other potential issues. Everything came back negative. I must admit that as I read over the doc's shoulder as she flipped through the test resutls, my eye caught the word "Positive". But it was only referring to Frances' blood type - O positive - so it serves me right for being nosy.

First Post

Frances is on the road in Chicago for work and I thought I'd do something productive. Which is why you're now reading our blog... Since we're a little late getting started with this, I've included a quick recap of what's happened so far:

About 6 weeks ago, Frances started complaining a lot about being hungry and tired all the time, and getting really cranky. Now, those of you who know her are probably sitting there thinking, 'Isn't she always hungry?', but this was on a scale I'd never seen before. We thought it was just a side effect of her coming off the pill recently and that the symptoms would disappear when her hormonal cycle normalized again.

4 weeks later, the situation wasn't getting any better, so not knowing what else to do, we took an EPT at home, really just to make sure she wasn't pregnant. Then, the first test we took came back positive... and the second... and the third for good measure. For what it's worth, the $40+ we spent on the 3 tests will end up costing more than the rest of her pregnancy ($25 co-pay and nothing else).

A few days later, we went to the ob/gyn, where they drew blood to test for hCG. The next day, the doctor called Frances back and said we should come to the office the next day. Naturally, I feared the worst when Frances told me and she kept me in suspense until we met up for dinner that night, but Lily Wong (our doc) just wanted to let us know that Frances was 10 weeks pregnant based on her hCG levels. At our next visit, we finally saw the baby for the first time on the sonogram.