Househusband,
Stay-at-home-dad

Monday, October 13, 2008

Gong Zhu's Movie Review

Gong Zhu has gradually become a part of the 'princess club.' She is very into dresses, shoes (even if they are not glass slippers), anything pretty pink or purple, fancy dancing and, of course, princesses. The first sign was only hours after we were united with her, when she dug out of a suitcase the few pretty dresses we had brought to China for her and insisted on changing into them. It culminated after she found "Cinderella" in one of our storybooks and wanted us to read it to her. Soon after was the Disney movie of the same; then one of the sequels. For a couple weeks after it was a rarity if I was not asked to answer to "Cinderella;" call her "Anastasia;" her brother, "Drizella;" and poor Mama, not step-mother but "mean stepmother." We were not going to the grocery store or our friends house, we were going to the "ball." Frequently, failing someone to play the role of fairy godmother, I was only permitted to go after some negotiation.

The above summary goes to explain how we came to watch "Beauty and the Beast" (Disney), not to traumatize our daughter, but at her confident request. Watch, mind you, with remote at the ready, one finger on "fast forward," another on "stop." The film has a number of suspens . . . OK, OK, scary parts. Gong Zhu snuggled in close to Mama during the first several scary scenes, with little whimpers, but could not look away. After a while, at the first sign of animated danger, she would just begin to ask what was going to happen, and how we knew — to be quite sure it would end up all right. She seemed OK with it all, and wanted keep watching.

By the time we reached the happy ending she seemed quite relaxed. She immediately pronounced her verdict in a calm, sweet, sing-song voice very out-of-place for this girl who forcefully speaks her mind when she's emotional: "Mommy, . . . I never want to see that again."

Monday, September 22, 2008

A Grown Up Realization OR "TELL me about it"

The kids were cleaning up the playroom the other day. (Well, de facto playroom. It used to be a sunroom.) It had gotten quite messy and previous attempts at getting them to clean it up had been interrupted by life. This time, however, there was time, we were holding them to it, and they were really working at it.

Well, the hard work they were doing — like many "real life" experiences — really got them thinking and talking.
Gong Zhu took a break from the rigorous toil, came up to me and said, "Gohgo [big brother] and I talking, we not have any room for all presents."

"Huh?"

She repeated herself.

"What presents?"

As if I were quite dense, she explained, "All presents we going get from Santa."

"Ahhh, ... right!"

Indeed! This is a problem we have oft considered in the past and one which daunts us again and again with each approaching gift-producing holiday.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Remediating Cat-astrophe

The comment on the last post brings up a good topic to reflect back on: Gong Zhu and cats, pets and other animals. Ms. Bratt mentioned that (in her experience) most children from China don't like cats. Gong Zhu likes cats now, but that wasn't always the case. She kind of had to adapt: we have three cats.

After we were united with Gong Zhu in Guangzhou and we would walk around the neighborhood of the hotel to go eat, etc., occasionally we would see someone out with a dog. She would point excitedly and say 狗 狗 "gáu gáu" [doggy]. There was also a statue of a person walking a dog that we saw almost every day; she was very interested in that dog, too. We were encouraged: perhaps she liked furry critters and would enjoy our cats. Not so much. When we got home pretty much terrified of our cats.

So how was it that, a month later, one of our biggest concerns was how to deal with Gong Zhu going to a family Christmas celebration at which a "dog cousin" would be present? She had made clear in a number of ways that she did not want to be in the house with this dog, including simply saying, "中意 狗;中意 !" "Ngóh `mh jung yi gáu; ngóh jung yi maau!" [I don't like dogs; I like cats!"] And she said it with an expression that seemed to imply that it was the most ridiculous thing in the world for me to not understand that she liked cats and that therefore it was absurd that she would even think about liking dogs.

The first sign that her affinity for animals was different that ours was during our travel group's trip to the Guangzhou Zoo. She was not at all afraid of the animals in the regular habitats and enclosures. We came upon a small, but still fenced area, where several ostensibly tame animals were (sadly) tethered with short chains. There were goats, monkeys, even domestic dogs. We stopped to look. One of the small monkeys climbed off of a pedestal on which it was sitting and started to approach us. Even though it was several feet from the fence and quite obviously chained, Gong Zhu cried out and clung to Mama like ... well, like a cat you're about to drop in a bath. Although I reassured her (in my poor, simple [but previously effective] Cantonese) that the monkey couldn't come out, she wanted to get far away from there, fast!

Fast forward to the day, here at home, when she first met one of our cats: the very same reaction. OK, we have a little bit of work to do.

And we did. Whenever the cats came near she wanted to be picked up and/or held. We did that, but also comforted her repeatedly saying the the cats were nice, wouldn't hurt her, etc. Gradually, she would allow the cats to walk by on the other side of the room with out needing to be airlifted out; then halfway across the room, and so on. It was gradual and yet fairly quick progress.

But as to actually liking the cats? The interest in befriending them came with surprising suddenness after just a few weeks. One day she saw the cat nearby and wanted me to pick her (Gong Zhu) up. She looked at the cat then told me she wanted to touch him. I was shocked, but calmly let her try. She did and didn't freak out. But after a few seconds that cat turned his head toward her hand and she yanked it back. Over the next three days, she did the same thing a few more times. After that, she seemed genuinely fond of the cats, though she retained a wariness that also wore away gradually.

As the previous post illustrated, she is quite comfortable with the cats now, and once in a while she will "manhandle" them in a way that I am reluctant to do.

Ironically, one of the holdout pet fears is that of the only animals in which she seemed interested when we first met her: dogs. A friend of ours who is originally from China told us many children in China are taught to stay away from dogs for safety. Makes sense. I don't know if this was the case with Gong Zhu. Certainly, dogs are much more active and "in-your-face" than other animals she has met. Her apprehension of dogs is not as intense as her first fears. Not surprisingly, it depends on the situation and mainly only occurs with larger dogs.

Nevertheless, Gong Zhu has come a long way with animals in just a short time. In the last couple of months she has gotten close to horses, pet rabbits, touched chicks, played with a small (chewing) puppy, gone into a petting zoo (no fence) with over a dozen goats and pet a number of them, and rode (with Mama & the Bünj') on a camel at the zoo.

Without enumerating the plethora of immense changes she has undergone in the last eight months, this is just one way Gong Zhu has amazed us.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Superhero

(But first . . . I must record some stories from the present. Well, this bit, anyway.)

Today the sprinkler was on and the cat was outside. Mei Mei, logically, decided it would be a good idea to wet the cat. So she took — what else — a toy sword and repeatedly applied small amounts of water to the cat's fur. She also experimented with other applicators: a toy plastic hockey puck and a pop can. (I'm not kidding.) She used the outside of the can, like a roller; she didn't pour water on the cat. In this, she is wise.

Once or twice she told me or Mrs. OccupationDad that she was putting water on the cat. When asked why, she said, "I giving her bathtub."

"You're giving him a bath?" I clarified.

"Yes."

OK, purpose; that's good.

Soon it was time to dry the cat with kitchen towels. She didn't have to say this: "Y' know, this kitchen towel would make a darn good cat dress."

Before you know it, I was an accomplice, helping her tie it on. Well, then it was ON. (Not the towel, the comedy.)

I asked Mei Mei, "Is Tigger your buddy? You like to dress him?"

She smiled, "Yeah, now her pretty!"

Soon Tigger got up and began to walk, his regalia looking more like a cape. Mei Mei noticed, "He a superhero."

It's about 77 degrees, and the cat has the built-in fur coat under the dress/cape; he's a good cat.

When Mei Mei charmed me into trying to put towel number two on the cat (who, incidentally has all of claws) as a "skirt," I should have known even this saintly cat would draw the line somewhere. Fortunately, he didn't draw that line in blood on one of our arms. No one was injured in the momentary, but quite clear, resistance. Once the skirt plan was scrapped, peace was restored.

I have no big finish for this one ... except pictures ... 1000 words; you do the math.




Well, ... maybe a superhero on vacation.

Long Time No See

OK, so ... OK, so here's what happened. We packed and packed, and got ready, and got nervous, and went over our important documents 5 more times, and then about 20 hours before we had to leave our laptop's hard drive failed, and then it got fixed in the nick of time (thank you Apple Store) and we got up at 4am and left for China.

We went to Beijing, acclimated, de-jet-lagged, learned about our daughter's homeland, then flew to Guangzhou to be united with her.

She met us, obediently did as her escort (the orphanage director) told her — called us Mama, Baba & Goh-go (Mommy, Daddy & big brother) and then burst into tears. Each day that followed held some tears and grief but also the wonders of smiles, fun together, and beginning to get to know and love each other.

This new turn in all of our lives took place last November. Now Mei Mei is fully, wonderfully a part of our lives. Things that happened three days ago, let alone events of 9 months ago, she describes — in English, a language she'd probably never heard back then — as "long time ago." (Nevertheless, we try to keep that past alive, and find out about her life before we were united with her.)

It's about time I put some of the stories from the adoption, China travels, etc. up here. (Yeah, we wrote some of that stuff down elsewhere.)

OK, ALL RIGHT I admit it, we kept a personal China blog for family, friends, etc. and didn't write a damn thing on this blog. But I'll make it up to you . . . somehow . . .