Happy Father's Day

Since it would extremely egocentric to write about myself on Father's Day, today I'll take a moment to digress from telling you about the life and times of Katherine and Caroline, and take this opportunity to say "Happy Father's Day" to their grandfather ("Yeh-Yeh" in Chinese), and my Father, Harry Lim.

Happy Father's Day to Grandpa!

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Anyone who would like to see some photos of Yeh-Yeh before he was "Yeh-Yeh" (in fact before he was a Father!), and was a jet-setting man about town, we collected some photos for his birthday celebration earlier this year. I've posted a few on our family website.

So to see Yeh-Yeh when he looked like this:

Click HERE.
(When prompted, userid = "guest", password = "montebello".)

Random Twin Comic Strip

Today's post comes courtesy of Josh, the blogger at The Comics Curmudgeon. If you have not bookmarked this blog site, I highly recommend it. It is always good for a chuckle.

I thought of what I might write to add to the comic strip and comments below, but I really have nothing to add. I just thought it was funny.

ComicToday’s Hi and Lois takes on the tough issue of twin-on-twin violence. I have to say that I’m actually a little creeped out by the way Ditto is slowly and deliberately rolling up the sleeve on his punchin’ arm, while Dot stands a few feet away, cringing in terror, but not fleeing. Fortunately, mom is on the case, making sure that Ditto merely humiliates and degrades his sister verbally.

Baaaaaad Monkey!

Since the girls have been old enough to climb into normal sized chairs, we have been pretty consistent in enforcing the "sit down" rule. That is: No standing, jumping, or otherwise playing on chairs.

We enforce this rule with two phrases: "Sit down, please", and "Sit down . . . on your butt!"

The second phrase is often used because the girls like to squat in their chairs pretending to sit, but will then use the opportunity to spring in the air like a jumping jack. (Of course in their minds, Mommy or Daddy will always be there to catch them before they crash to the ground!)

So tonight before bed we were reading their favorite books before bedtime, and for the thousandth time, we read their Curious George book, which has this photo on the last page:

Upon seeing this photo, my girls, for the first time, cried out: "Monkey! Sit down . . . on your butt!"

At least I know they've been listening to me all this time.

No Raccoons, Part II

Katherine's fear of raccoons is growing, and we haven't even seen one in over two weeks.

Tonight, I left the shade to one window in the girls' room open, and the window slightly open due to the fact that it is a very warm night.

Katherine absolutely refused to lay down in her bed until I shut the window and lowered the shades. All she kept repeating was, "No raccoots. No raccoots."

I'm wondering if I should buy a stuffed animal raccoon, or if that would just be flinging fuel on the fire.

Tomorrow we learn to do the "Hustle"

Thanks to me, when Katherine holds the "Little People" construction worker, shown here:

she now starts to sing the song "YMCA" by the Village People. She even does the hand spell-out.


Is it child abuse to expose my kids to 70's disco-pop?

Feel free to sing along with us:

YMCA - By The Village People

Daddy's Disco Partner.

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Pet's Welcome -- Kids, Not So Much.

Yesterday I picked the girls up from daycare a little early, and remembered that we needed to buy more cat food for our cat, Tabby.

I thought the girls would have a good time coming to PetSmart with me and seeing the birds, fishes, etc. After all, what kid doesn't like looking at pets in a pet store?

Unfortunately, I forgot about PetSmart's motto, "Pet's Welcome".

As we were waiting in line to buy the cat food, with me holding a 20-pound bag of "Meow Mix", a woman walked up behind us with a very large dog.

The girls screamed bloody murder.

They tried to climb up my leg as if their lives depended on it. And in their minds, their lives probably did depend on it.

What was most amusing was the reaction of the other customers, most of them carrying/walking their pets (mostly dogs) with them.

They looked annoyed, as if my girls had some nerve screaming over their dogs!

Kids not welcome.

Drama Queens

Not even two years old yet, and already the girls are budding drama stars.

Here's how it all went down at the Lim Household tonight.

Mommy is taking a shower, and Daddy is watching the NBA playoffs with the girls.

Suddenly, Caroline screams out. Daddy looks down, and Katherine is biting Caroline's finger (We've had a full-on biting epidemic in the past week -- hopefully it will be a short-lived phase).

After Daddy gets Katherine to unhinge her jaw off Caroline's finger, Daddy checks the finger (no blood, just tiny bite marks, thank goodness).

Daddy gives a stern talking to Katherine that goes something like this: "Katherine, no biting! No! Daddy is very disappointed in you! Daddy does not like biting. No biting your sister."

Katherine just looks at me. No crying. No laughing. Just looks me in the eye and takes her lecture calmly.

At my request, Katherine gives a lukewarm hug and kiss to her sister at my request. Caroline, still crying bloody murder, take the opportunity to repeat my lecture through her sobs, "No! No bite! NO!"

I get Caroline an "ow-y" ice pack for her finger. Katherine follows us into the kitchen, and asks for some ice to play with, too.

I tell Katherine, "No ice for you. No biting your sister. No ice."

Katherine just looks up at me, then walks to the cabinet where her school lunch bags are kept.

She grabs all four lunch bags in the cabinet, heads to the door leading to our garage, looks over at me, and states, "Bye-bye, Daddy!"

JEEZ!! -- I thought I had until at least five years old for the "I'm running away from home" bit!!!

(Unfortunately for Katherine, the bluff of running away from home works better if you are actually able to unlock and open a door.)

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The dramatics was not confined to Katherine, however.

Twenty minutes after the biting incident, Caroline, Katherine and I are all sitting on the couch once more, drinking milk from our sippy cups.

(Okay, I'm drinking water, but you get the idea).

Caroline hasn't cried for over 15 minutes.

Until . . . .

Mommy comes out of the bedroom from her shower.

Suddenly, Caroline is screaming "Owwwwwiiieeeee!" at the top of her lungs, holding up her injured finger for Mommy to see.

I tell Caronline, "Oh, you're just faking so Mommy will pick you up."

Caroline, from the safe cradle of Mommy's arm, shoots me a look that I swear says, "Quiet, you. It was because you were watching the stupid TV that I got bit on the finger in the first place!"

About 20 minutes later, Mommy is busy getting things ready for bed, and Caroline decides she wants some more attention.

She runs up to Mommy holding up her finger, screaming, "Owwwwwwieee!"

This time, however, Mommy is onto the scam.

"Caroline, you're holding up the wrong finger. You got bit on your right finger. That's your left finger."

At that point Caroline at least had the dignity to put her hand down and walk away!

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Here are some photos of our girls from earlier in the day, before all the drama. We got this playhouse free from another family whose kids have outgrown it:

Katherine in the new playhouse.

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Caroline checking out the windows.

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