Dinomite Mommy - family chronicles of a dinosaur lover

1 June, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Weary Dinosaur Mommy

Dinosaur Thought of the Day: We could have been extinct last night. A giant asteroid like the one that had made dinosaurs go extinct sailed safely passed Earth. But we made it.

Since St. Patrick’s Day, I’ve written several drafts of posts, but have yet to publish them–save for the one below. I’ve been busy, very tired, etc. Then the Boston Marathon bombings occurred, and I lost again the heart to blog for a while. I didn’t want to talk about dinosaurs anymore in the face of shattered parents, children, and dreams. I didn’t want to go inward, but reach outward, even though paradoxically I think we need to do the first to achieve the latter–but I think going inward via prayer rather than by writing about my trivial crap should be the proper way to go.

Personal blogs are by nature narcisstic, but almost all writing is, even fiction, despite what Tom Wolfe says.

I can’t do a lot of things. But 1) I can often feel other people’s emotional pain, often a lot stronger than I would like. Sometimes I am too clumsy to use this empathy. I don’t know the right words to say. 2) I haven’t given in to the lie that youth and fashion magazines tell us: “you will live forever (in this world).”

In other words, I am under no illusion that we may die at anytime, and yet we must to be a healthy, functioning human being, continue our lives.

So many people say it seems like we are in the end times. But Nero burned Rome a long time ago; it’s been burned again and again. And here we still are. And we have to hope while facing the grave.

I’ll do it, because of what I believe and fight daily to Believe, but it isn’t perfect obedience.

The Boston bombings made me realize that while no one can take anything from you,

except your life,

per Hamlet,

we have to walk, crawl, limp, look to the Finish Line, even if we may never cross the one at the marker we have in mind.

And when people themselves cannot make it, because their chance was taken away, or they are growing weak from sickness or age, or threatening daily, despite all our tears and prayers, to check out of the race early, or they have already cut it short, taking our breath and heart away because it was too painful for them to finish, we are supposed to carry them, whether with flesh or bones memorial, and be carried by them.

For with faith and love draw near.

—-

MY POST WAY BEFORE THE BOSTON MARATHON BOMBING (AROUND MARCH 30):

My ideal day would be:

Starting the day off in prayer and gratitude instead of the reveille of two little Dinos screaming and crying.

Dino cups for favors for the kids of guests at my hub’s birthday party back in January.

Having everyone’s face washed and teeth brushed, without protest or indignation that I had put only 2, not 3, different kinds of toothpaste on the brush, and then an epic battle to brush Toddler Dino’s teeth myself, and get her to swish.

Having time to wash my own face rather than use a diaper wipe.

Drinking fresh juice instead of clawing for coffee like a vampire needs blood.

At a wonderful little neighborhood cafe. Yes, that’s a cupful of sugar the waitress brought for hub’s Turkish coffee.

Making an amazing, wholesome nutritious breakfast from scratch, served with a rose, while no little Dino is screaming or arguing about TV.

Getting the kids into beautiful, custom tailored clothes worn by wealthy British children a century ago instead of trying to find anything that isn’t stained.

Taming and styling the Lorax that is Toddler Dino’s hair without protest.

Having a predictable schedule and getting to play dates or kids functions on time.

Looking amazing and unfrazzled instead of not being able to feel half my face because I’m so tired.

Making an organic, nutritious lunch.

Persian and Mediterranean food. Not made by me.

Having kids take naps together so I can take one, too.

Having Toddler Dino do reading, math, science, music, botany, art, exercise, everyday and on schedule instead of feeling like I’m winging it every day.

Waiting for visible bacteria and fungi.

Having a moment to myself and work out or volunteer. The time I have for blogging? Only made possible my being on my side typing while nursing.

Making a gluten-free French dinner a with candles and look like Shalom Harlow in that Tiffany & Co. Video. Because that is such a realistic picture of motherhood, right?

Ending the day in prayer and gratitude, not a three hour epic battle and a demand from Toddler Dino for better ore satisfactory explanations about Why Little Dinos Gotta Go Sleep.

Having the kids go to bed on time and not waking up twenty times a night to nurse and looking and feeling like the bride of Frankenstein in the morning.

The reality is that this ideal day only happens five out of seven days a week.

I’m just kidding.

Especially during the time I was recovering from my C- section a few months ago, I realize that I can’t do everything I want to do.

I realize there are a few lower energy things I can do on days I can’t homeschool, especially days when Baby Dino’s colic/fussiness is so bad he wants to be carried for 14 hours straight.

Level 1 Activities (Activities that require low energy)

1) Start the day off with a quick prayer, even if it’s in my head–even if it’s one sentence: Dear God, thank you for this day. (To my wise friend N., thank you for this reminder to be grateful, daily.) Most often it is followed by: “Please help me find the strength to get through this day because I’m dead tired.” This practice has evolved into a prayer circle: Recently, also at the idea of this same wise friend, we go around after our morning and evening prayer and say what we’re grateful for. So far, Toddler Dino is grateful that I get to spend time with her, lizards, beds, blankets, eggs, that Baby Dino’s thigh was going to heal even though she bit him a day earlier, planets, dinosaurs, and more.

2) Play calming classical music.

3. Listen to books on tape.

Level 2 (Activities that are very chill but still require some energy)

4) Read at least one story together.

5) Make up a story together.

6) Sing with your kid.

7) Making sure Toddler Dino eats at least one piece of fruit or vegetable and her vitamins. As she hates most vegetables I offer her pureed fruit and vegetable baby food in pouches.

When all else fails, I hold my children and tell them I love them no matter what. That’s the best activity of all.

18 March, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Beginning Great Lent on St. Patrick’s Day

Toddler Dino’s St. Patrick’s Day Greeting. A Leprechaun Dino must have taken some letters away.

Dinosaur Thoughts Of The Day: Dinosaurs are often portrayed as being green. Do we really know for sure what colors dinosaurs were? No, but some scientists hypothesize that dinosaurs were gray/green to help blend in with their surroundings, while others say they could have been brightly colored to attract mates and distinguish their own species from others. Do you wear clothes that blend in with your surroundings or do you stand out?

Dino Behind The Green: At a Cafe In San Diego With Toddler Dino Earlier This Week.

Yesterday, we woke up late (as usual being woken up by Baby Dino all night) and were late to church as usual (ever since we’ve had kids, I don’t remember getting to church on time), but arrived just in time for the kids to receive Communion. We had already missed an hour and a half of the service, but there was still an hour and a half more of church left. (This is nothing; when I went to services at the Kiev Monastery of the Caves in Ukraine one summer, I’ve attended services that were 5+ hours long. Orthodox services tend to be long. The running (semi) joke is that when you hear “Let Us Complete Our Prayer to the Lord,” prepare to be there for a while.)

Green and Black Olive, Green Tomato, and Feta Salad: One of the final dairy-filled dishes I made Daddy Dino before he fasts for Orthodox Lent.

Yesterday was Forgiveness Sunday, the start of Great Lent for Eastern Orthodox Christians, which has its own set of fasting rules. For those who observe the dietary part of the fasting rules, yesterday before sundown was the last day of Cheesefare, the week where we were allowed to still eat dairy products, and the Sunday before was the last day of Meatfare, the last week to eat meat. So we are basically supposed to eat almost vegan (shellfish and honey are okay) from now until Easter (Pascha). Some days oil isn’t allowed. You can take a look at a Russian Orthodox calendar here for what’s allowed to be eaten. At monasteries, and in some homes I know, people don’t eat at all starting from sundown today until liturgy on Wednesday.

I am a terrible faster and am so relieved because I have a dispensation because I am breastfeeding. I’m so weak-willed about food. During Great Lent, every donut and bacon burger is calling my name. Even when it’s something gross I won’t touch usually, I will want it during the fast, just because it’s forbidden. (I just chowed down on some really gross Jack In The Box Hot Mess Fries a few hours beef before Cheesefare ended.) But I will try to eat vegan, or at least vegetarian, whenever I can, yet try to observe the spirit of the fast–I guess that means no amazing Sprinkles or Georgetown vegan cupcakes every day.

Toddler Dino does not like Green Vegetable Juice, even when I try to tell her it's a St. Patrick's Day Treat. She already has this look: come on, Mommy. Where's my green cupcake?

Toddler Dino does not like Green Vegetable Juice, even when I try to tell her it’s a St. Patrick’s Day Treat. She responded with this look that said come on, Mommy. Where’s my green cupcake?

The kids won’t be fasting.

Hub observes the fast strictly with one exception. His parents taught him that he’s not supposed to make a big show about it or trouble others about it.* If, for example, someone invites us over to his cave to partake of the honey-glazed Amazonsaurus he caught and so painstakingly roasted all day, hub says it would not be cool to say, I’m doing a religious fast. So last week, when Meatfare had already ended and he went out with another lawyer who really wanted to go to Korean BBQ, he ate without saying a word.

So he eats out of humility. But me–I have to confess whenever I am offered meat or dairy during Great Lent, I have to suppress a heck-yeah-I-get-to-eat-cake-for-your-birthday fist bump.

The dietary fast is supposed to be simply a tool, not an end, for our efforts to transform ourselves; it’s not supposed to be the focus** of the next 40 days.

Today during Forgiveness Sunday right after Liturgy, we had Forgiveness Vespers. In some Russian parishes we have attended, we each go around and bow or prostrate to one another, asking each other for forgiveness, kissing one other on the cheek three times, and responding with, God Forgives. (My favorite Forgiveness Vespers was almost a decade ago, when the 4-year-old sibling of our friend just stood back holding court, beaming while people were prostrating in front of him.) At the church we attended today, this wasn’t the case; there were too many people. But we said all the forgiveness prayers together.

And all this on St. Patrick’s Day, another holiday I love. After all, Koreans are the Irish of Asia.

After church, we went afterward to Blu Jam Cafe. We had until sundown, after all, to partake of dairy with Daddy Dino. There were a lot of St. Patrick’s Day revelers. I reflexively shrank, remembering how many times I had gotten pinched when I was a kid because I had forgotten to wear green on St. Patty’s Day, but then I remembered was wearing my mom’s green shawl. I had also put a little green ribbon on Toddler Dino’s dress, just in case some random kid with itchy index fingers and thumbs would come up to her and pinch her.

Daddy Dino and Baby Dino didn’t wear green but I know no one would pinch a baby or 6 foot plus Daddy Dino and expect to not go extinct.

Ingredients of An Evolution Fresh Sweet Greens and Lemon Juice.

*I do feel hypocritical I’m even writing on my blog private things like hub’s fasting, but since I’m for the most part anonymous, I hope the damage is minimal. That is the struggle when writing a blog or writing in general: I want to share and reveal, yet I want to ultimately become someone who is “simple, hidden, quiet, and small.”***

**This is a link to a religious post by one of the most noted Orthodox theologians and scholars, Fr. Thomas Hopko. Please skip it if not interested because I don’t want to proselytize anyone. I have included it because I am often asked what we do or give up for Lent, and I feel that the 55 Maxims of Christian Living in this link describe actions we strive for in Lent best.

***Link to same post noted above.

11 March, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Remembering and Reigniting the Best of Childhood Through Arts & Crafts: An ItsySparks’ ItsyKit Review

Dinosaur thought of the day: Were there any dinosaurs that built things? I don’t know, but found out today that there were prehistoric beavers called castoroides. We don’t know for sure if they made dams like modern beavers, but anything is possible. I would have loved to see what sort of dams these 8 foot long, 200 pound ancient beavers made.

—-

An ItsyKit. The beautiful packaging makes Toddler Dino feel like she’s getting a special present every month.

Some of the best things I remember about childhood include: light running on water while I was at the beach, giggling with a friend in the dark during sleepovers, the off-key siren song of the ice cream truck, pizza day in the cafeteria, sitting on cool grass outside my parents’ apartment on the fringes of Koreatown and knotting any small flowers I could find–and feeling, even if I wasn’t consciously thinking, that life’s possibilities were limitless.

I especially enjoyed arts and crafts. I loved drawing things, building log cabins from popsicle sticks, and stringing together macaroni necklaces. And I loved to imagine that I was making things beyond the tangible craft in front of me. When I was four or five, a few other neighborhood kids and I decided that we were going to make a Vanagen Camper. We had found a spare tire and some lumber, and somehow we were going to be just as good as the Volkswagen engineers and make a van by which we’d travel the world. It didn’t happen, but we weren’t terribly disappointed because we were having too much fun.

Childhood is that time in life when you can create things with a purity of focus and intent: I remember that when I made an arts and crafts project, I delighted in the process itself and forgot everything else. Even when it was an assignment for school, there wasn’t any anxiety about a grade, a deadline, or a critic. I was eager to show it to my parents, because when you are a small kid, you know what you make cannot be anything less than amazing.

But then I ate bushels from the tree of knowledge by growing up and forgot this…wonder. Since college, until a few years ago, I had a dry spell with creativity. Even though I was blogging and drawing anonymously on a comic blog, something was stilted. I thought I would never again be able to think the way a child can. However, in 2009, Toddler Dino was born and I got the privilege of being able to see the world anew through her eyes.

The Googly Eyes of an ItsyKit My Grassy Friend craft.

I was excited with finally getting back in touch with my creativity, but it felt like relearning how to use a limb that had been in a cast for well over a decade. And as a stay-at-home mom, I struggled especially in the beginning with what sorts of activities I was going to do with her. We often did a lot of arts and crafts and science experiments, but it took so darn long to hunt and shop for materials, etc. Some of my early projects with my daughter looked really sad, too–as if a sewing box had sneezed out some random materials onto construction paper, and then an Angulomastacator had stepped on it. I was a very arts-and-crafts-challenged mommy in the early days. I started reading up on a lot of crafts books and articles to get project ideas. They were extremely time consuming; Toddler Dino and I would take hunting trips in unfamiliar territory: crafts stores. I also ordered other arts and crafts kits, which were fine but often a little bit on the boring side. Until I encountered an absolutely amazing resource: ItsySparks.

Imaginative territory: an ItsyKit’s rainforest terrarium project–one of the coolest projects Toddler Dino and I have ever done.

ItsySparks is a phenomenal educational company that sells the best arts and crafts kits I have come across to date. Started by 3 amazingly creative and dynamic women, two of whom have backgrounds in teaching (and I have the privilege of knowing; I mention this because I feel their products reflect their generous personalities and creative brilliance as parents–I am, like many, drawn to businesses that are passion projects over faceless companies), and one brilliant MBA, ItsySparks creates kits that contain 3-5 projects that include all materials. The kits are so thorough that I didn’t have to buy materials for even the projects that required a paper mache brush, glue dots, sponges, transparent sticky paper, various buttons, etc.–they were all included. This makes the kits portable and convenient for family vacations or for a parent on the go with his/her child.

The ItsyKits are arranged by themes, which I realize is very important, not only because it helps my child remember concepts, but also because it creates a sense of order in the creativity. Why do kids like the neat lines of IKEA kids furniture, rules of poetry, or the moral boundaries of fairytales? All of these help arrange the vast and unruly world in which we live into a more coherent sequence; yet this order gives them the freedom to unleash their creativity.

The ItsyKit does just that. It not only provides the materials and (extremely lucid) directions for the projects, but it also provides recipes, science experiment ideas, reading suggestions, etc. related to the theme.

ItsyKit Button Tree Project for Fall Season Theme.

What’s so brilliant about ItsyKits is that the learning goes beyond the physical contents of the box: the projects are designed to fuel thinking and discussion with your child. And whatever sparks Toddler Dino’s curiosity also lights up my own.

If you are interested in a kit, you can take a look at the various pricing options here. (I bought a 6-month membership* a few months ago, and some 1-month kits, which make for unique and beautiful presents that fit my budget.) ItsySparks has something for all budgets, however: it even provides wonderful free resources: a fantastic facebook page with frequent posts on fun science experiments, recipes, reading suggestions, etc., and a great blog of project ideas, called ItsyBits.

ItsySparks’ facebook page is a positive and uplifting page that promotes a culture of creativity and encouragement. It posts inspirational, often humorous, and encouraging quotes, especially for parents. It posts gorgeous photos of creative recipes. It is a (growing) community of passionate fans.

Even if you don’t buy a kit, I encourage any Mommy or Daddy Dino to take a look at great resources like ItsySparks to get ideas on projects. Arts & Crafts are beneficial for not only the child in your arms, but also for the one inside you.

Reliving the summer of childhood: ItsySpark’s ItsyKits lei project.

—-

*For anyone wondering, I am not an employee of ItsySparks, just a fan. I wrote this review on my own initiative and did not request or receive compensation for it.

5 March, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Dinosaur Hotdog Ode To Joy: Mommy and Toddler Songwriting Exercise No. 3

Organic Trader Joes Hotdog Slices I put on Trader Joes Arugula Pizza for dinner a few weeks ago.

Dinosaur Thought of the Day: A stegosaurus and allosaurus walk into a hotdog store. And what do they order?

(To skip reading to listen to the music, click here: Dinosaur Hotdogs mp3)

After the eye incident with Baby Dino a few days ago, Toddler Dino suddenly threw up at church on Sunday and then a few more times over the next few days. She has had no fever but a runny nose and is in a great mood during the day and a bad one at night. I’m hoping she feels good enough to go out today.

A few days ago, I started singing a song while hanging out with my kids. My daughter, who often doesn’t like me to sing, usually yells: Don’t sing, Mommy, don’t sing, or tells me to change the song.

This time, she said, No, no, no–sing Ode to Joy (she means the melody in the last movement of Beethoven’s ninth symphony to which the actual poem, Ode to Joy (Ode an die Freude) by Frederich Schiller was set).

Since I’ve only taken 2 semesters of German when I was contemplating a career in theology after law school, I told her let’s compose our lyrics and set it to melody of Ode to Joy. I asked her for an animal. She picked a stegosaurus. What’s her name? Mrs. Stegosaurus! Then I asked her where was the stegosaurus going. She said, down to the hotdog store. A store that just sells hotdogs? Yeah! Well, is the stegosaurus an herbivore or a carnivore? An herbivore! What are the hotdogs made from then? Plants!

We ended up with this: Dinosaur Hotdogs (mp3 file of me singing tongue in cheek. Please click on the hyperlink that says “Dinosaur Hotdogs” on this page and the next page you are taken to if you’d like to hear it.)

Mrs. Stegosaurus is going down to the hot dog store.

The hot dogs are made from green plants because she is an herbivore.

That’s why she eschews hot dogs made from T-Rexes.

The meaty sausages she leaves for purchase by the carnivores.

Mrs. Allosaurus is going down to the hot dog store.

The hot dogs she seeks are made from meat because she’s a carnivore.

That why she eschews hot dogs made from greenery.

The plant-based hot dogs she leaves for the stalwart vegan herbivore.

To try this at home, play a few notes of a simple melody like “Ode to Joy.” Ask your Little Dino what is her favorite animal, what is its name, and what is it doing. Then compose one sentence with your ideas. If, for example, s/he ends up with: A Troodon is going to the pirate show, ask for words that rhyme with show, the last word of the sentence. Brainstorm and give ideas, like show, go, flow, toe, etc., and keep asking questions to create the next line that will end in a rhyming word. Sometimes you will have to add adjectives or synonyms yourself to have enough syllables appropriate for the song. (And no, Toddler Dino did not come up with “eschews” or

“stalwart.”)

A Terrific Troodon is going to the pirate show.

He likes to wear big pirate hats and jewels and gold on his toe.

Happy Song Composing, fellow Dinophiles. Sending you a virtual cup of coffee and a wish for a peaceful day without colds and running noses.

3 March, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Baba Marta Day and Blue and Red Baby Dino Eyes

Martinitsa--a traditional bracelet gifted for good luck on Bulgaria's Baba Marta Day on Toddler Dino's Tiny Pteranodon Toy From Dinosaur Train.

Martinitsa–a traditional bracelet gifted for good luck on Bulgaria’s Baba Marta Day encircling Toddler Dino’s Tiny Pteranodon Toy From Dinosaur Train.

Dinosaur thought of the day:what was spring like in prehistoric times? This interesting article discusses the scientific reason behind seasons.

March 1st was Baba Marta Day in Bulgaria.

Baba Marta literally means Grandma or Granny March. It’s an old pagan holiday that even my in-laws, who are devout Orthodox Christians, celebrate because it is so engrained in the Bulgarian culture.

Another martinitsa on a stegasaurus.

Baba Marta is a powerful figure–an old woman whose mood changes seasons. When she’s happy, she brings about spring. When she’s angry, it’s winter. It’s unclear to me if she starts getting pissed off in the summer or fall. Does sweltering heat mean she is ecstatic? And, from what my in-laws tell me, if she really is very old, I presume she is post-menopausal, so I don’t think summer is indicative of a cosmic hot flash.

Bulgarians give one another bracelets made of red and white yarn, called martinitsi (pl.) (sing. — martinitsa). I was told you are supposed to wear them until you see a stork (I see from wiki that a swallow or a blossoming tree suffices) and then tie the bracelet to a tree. We haven’t seen any storks in L.A. lately.

A martinitsa with a stork doing a headstand.

Anyway, the bracelets above are straight from Bulgaria from a beautiful family friend who spent a fortune on international express mail so they would arrive before the 1st to my in-laws’ address.

My mother-in-law gave us several martinitsi, including a tiny one with a blue and white heart charm (the first photo in this post) on it and told me give one to Toddler Dino and to hang one on Baby Dino’s car seat, saying that the charm, which I guess sort of looks like a fanciful eye where the sclera is blue and the pupil is the heart, warded off the evil eye. I didn’t do it because I was afraid the tiny part was a choking hazard.

So for anyone who is superstitious–I know where your mind is going when I tell you that Baby Dino scratched his eye with his tiny finger nail on Baba Marta Day while we were at the library, even though I cut his fingernails two days before that. We were in the bathroom and I was helping Toddler Dino when I noticed a red scratch on his sclera and cheek. He wasn’t crying. I was calm on one level because I remember my dad said my mom had scratched my own eye by accident when I was a kid, drawing blood, but I wasn’t permanently damaged. But, of course, I was still concerned and called up his pediatrician and ophthalmologist.

Martinitsa with zodiac sign embellishments.

The pediatrician was making rounds at the hospital, and the ophthalmologist was out of town. I called a few more doctors that I was referred to by the ophthalmologist’s office staff. No one was in. The angel of a receptionist called me about 20 times that day, trying to help me find an eye doctor that was actually in on a late Friday afternoon–when most offices were closed. I had my husband be on call to bring the car back. I didn’t take him to emergency because he was laughing and my gut told me he was fine. Finally a few hours later, the doctor told her to tell us to take a picture of the eye and email it to her. She called and left a message saying it was totally fine and would prescribe an ointment just for prevention. Just fyi, if any of you ever panic about a scratched eye, here is some info from Dr. Sears about the subject.

The antibacterial (erythromycin) ointment for the eye is available by prescription. The doctor said not to apply it during the day if possible because it would make the baby’s vision blurry, and would not be the best thing for his developing eyes. The pharmacist warned me that a common side effect would be red eyes and swelling, and sure enough, it did.

But by the afternoon the next day, the eye looked better. It was just in time for Dr. Seuss’s Birthday. I packed the kids in the stroller and, fueled by a great mood precipitated by my hormones starting to shift (finally, 4 months postpartum, I think I’m ovulating again. Sorry–I’m sure you needed to hear that.) and some coffee, did an egregious amount of walking and running until I reached the library where there was a small but lively party. Toddler Dino talked with some other young girls, made her own truffula tree, a Lorax mask, and got some Dr. Seuss swag.

Truffula tree craft.

I looked at my kids at couldn’t believe it was March already.

There is something about spring that is both beautiful and tremulous. It is a fragile moment when life is in bloom. You can’t think too far ahead or else it can be sad and overwhelming.

I looked down at my little ones again. Toddler Dino is no longer a tiny baby (well, always my baby, but you know what I mean) but a little girl who is her own person.

Baby Dino looked around him with his huge blue eyes, with wonder and without fear.

I tried to do the same.

1 March, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Hanging Out With Beverly Hills Mommies

This Sauropod Lives In BevHo, yo.

Years ago in high school when some very wealthy family friends from South Korea–a mother and her married, adult daughter–were staying with my family, they went to Rodeo Drive. I had lived in So Cal all my life up until I went to Yale for college and had never gone there. The only things I knew about the 90210 were a) Brenda and Dylan liked to hang out there, and b) not everyone Belonged.

My parents had gone to some restaurant there when I was young for a special occasion and told me that the waiter mistreated them because he sensed that they didn’t belong there (they were the only non-Caucasians at the restaurant) even though they were dressed up in the best clothes they had. He also gave all the tables condiments to take home except to my parents. They said that a very kind patron, however, came up to them and said, “That’s not right. The waiter shouldn’t treat you that way,” and gave them his own unopened bottle of dijon mustard and ketchup, and I remember them bringing them home to me as a souvenier.

So when our Korean friends came back from Rodeo Drive, I said: “What’s it like?” I imagined the Emerald City, but in Platinum.

“Very expensive,” they said, and showed me a truly hideous designer T-shirt that cost almost a thousand dollars that the daughter had bought to take back to her difficult mother-in-law.

Ugh, I thought. I don’t want to go there.

But years later in law school, I bought my Mom a gift certificate for Mother’s Day to Thibiant Spa with some of my savings. This was back in the day before Yelp reviews and I knew that chances were that a spa located in Beverly Hills would be swank. When I made the reservation and payment over the phone, I asked the receptionist–”Um, you’re going to be nice to my Mom, right? I mean…I mean…”

The kind lady picked up on it right away and said, “Of course…we’re not some snooty, stuck up spa…” she said gently.

“Thank you,” I said meekly. And they were wonderful. My Mom had a fabulous experience and left a message on my answering machine in Korean expressing how blown away she was and to never buy her a gift certificate again because she was so uncomfortable from the luxury of it. My dad told me later that she felt Korean bathhouses were more at her “level.”

On Tuesday and Thursday (yesterday), Daddy Dino dropped me, Baby and Toddler Dinos off at the Beverly Hills Library. Daddy Dino recently decided to go solo again but he also doing contract work in BevHo, and the library is a few blocks away from his work.

Having almost no appropriate casual clothing (most of my maternity clothes are also now too big, as I gave away a lot of my nicest clothes when I was pregnant and moving down to LA to lighten the load), on Tuesday, I dressed in my Sunday best, which isn’t saying much. I wore my Tahitian pearls, the most expensive piece of jewelry I own, which I think were somewhere between $100-$200, which is even more expensive than my wedding ring. (I did have a modest yet extremely beautiful engagement ring that my hub had bought me in law school which is unfortunately now lost, that was around $600-$700. It would devastate my mother-in-law to know it’s lost because she was the one who picked it out, so please don’t tell her.)* I combed my home-cut hair that is a little bit lop-sided. I put on my heels which had been on clearance at Marshalls. I put on some ghastly pale BB cream sample that my mom had given me because I had run out of foundation months ago.

So clearly I looked like I was trying way too hard, because the Cartier ring on my preconceived notion of a Beverly Hills mom’s pinky would kick the butt of all the jewelry / clothes I own. But, I didn’t feel bad at all for dressing up, because the other option would have been to wear something with regurgitated breast millk/formula/strained fruit.

On Thursday, I wore laundered casual clothes.

I wanted to dress my kids in their Sunday best–but they needed to be dry cleaned or laundered. So, we made do:

Baby Dino’s outfit in BevHo.

Hub dropped us off at the Beverly Hills library. We strode over to the cafe attached to it. I don’t know if I was imagining it, but a few people seemed to look me up and down, assessing me.

Hub surmised it best later on: “People here seem to look you over to see whether you live here or you’re here to help.”

I confessed, “Well, you know what? I’m doing the same thing.”

I went in, a tiny part of me wondering if I was going to see surreal-like, beautiful people covered in diamonds with library cards encrusted in gold. Instead I saw socioeconomic diversity. There were homeless people outside (and inside), and other people from all over the socioeconomic spectrum inside.

But I did see huge engagement rings, gold watches, and quite a few Louis Vuitton bags. That’s anywhere in L.A., I guess.

Demographically, the Beverly Hills library patrons yesterday was pretty diverse even though the city website says that currently, Caucasians make up almost 90% of the population. According to online figures I found, most residents are Jewish, and there is also a sizeable Persian community (who are mostly Persian Jews), and that was also true at the library. But I saw a lot of other Asians, too, who purpotedly only make up almost 6% of the city’s population. The mommies I talked to these past two days were British, Persian, Jewish (Orthodox), Chinese-Filipino, French, Polish, African American, Hispanic American, or of mixed heritage. I also talked with a Gentile** Caucasian daddy whose adorable yet aggressive 2-year-old son grabbed my Toddler Dino’s wrist and told her to come home with him. (I had a talk with her afterwards of not ever being afraid to tell a boy “No.”) Not everyone had a nanny (or had brought them), but a few of them did.

We hung out in the Little Theater–a small playroom–in the children’s section. Many of the moms and the dad were very friendly. Only one was standoffish, but she might have been having an off-day. One mom asked me whether I live in Beverly Hills. I said no, but I did have a library card. (As long as you show proof of residence in Los Angeles, you can get a free Beverly Hills Library card.)

Other than the most gorgeous mommy there today (and she was the nicest–we talked about extended breastfeeding and slow-weight gain issues of our daughters) with perfect hair, make-up, an amazing body, impeccable manners, two organized bags, and her nanny, whom she treated as her equal (I wish I could have asked to take a picture of her to post it here), I didn’t feel the glamour of Beverly Hills.

Hub told me I have to go down to Rodeo Drive if I want to see the unreal cars and preternaturally perfect people. He said that I was simply at the cusp of BevHo.

What lessons did I learn?

First, parenthood is the great equalizer. Obviously, it didn’t matter what our socioeconomic background/race/religion/etc. was–all the parents there loved their children.

Second, it doesn’t matter if you’re wealthy or not or have a nanny or not–if you’re a parent who is involved in your child’s/children’s upbringing, you’re gonna work. I saw a lot of really tired parents.

Third, you can live in Beverly Hills and not be a millionaire. Also, there are relatively affordable apartments for rent.

Fourth, love can make you strong for your child. Even though I am a lawyer, I am deeply shy. And my daughter is, too. But I spoke to any parent I could so that my daughter could feel more confident about engaging with the other children.

Fifth, you don’t need to be rich to give your child a great childhood or an amazing education. (I already knew that.) Don’t get me wrong. If I were super rich, I could hire a private music teacher who played at Carnegie Hall, a nanny that spoke French, Russian, and Mandarin, baby masseuses, a gymnastics teacher who was a former Olympian, a tree house the size of an Argentinosaurus, and a team of firefighters who can cruise around in their firetruck with my kids whenever she asks.

Sixth, toddlers can recognize wealth and be drawn to it. The library in my parents’ neighborhood is actually very nice and far from squalor. But the reason why we returned to Beverly Hills was because of my daughter: “I really want to go to Beverly Hills because I prefer it.” Um, okay.

And finally, the dinosaurs in BevHo aren’t that different from the ones in my own home:

Puzzle at the Beverly Hills Library

—

*The one other pair of earrings I own are these $14 cubic zirconia earrings that make me so happy because my BFF gave them to me. They are a not-so-private joke between us; I had deliberated for a long time on whether or not to get them because of the many reviews on amazon.com that claim they look real. I’m not a diamond connoisseur and don’t know if my studs could past BevHo muster, but they sure do shine.

**Although I think being overly PC is extremely tedious and impractical, I know race is always a sensitive topic, even when it’s mentioned in the context of passionless observation. So I tried to look up all politically-correct terms, but I can’t be sure I’m using the right ones, so please excuse me if I’ve offended you. I understand to some extent where you’re coming from. I don’t get offended anymore when an elderly person calls me Oriental lady when it’s done without malice.

25 February, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Daddy Dino Declares Every Day A Holiday

Mushroom Cupcake From Whole Foods in Honor of the Perpetual Daily Holiday Daddy Dino Declared: I Love My Family Day

Today my Toddler Dino said that she wished everyday could be a holiday.

Daddy Dino asked her, What holiday?

She said: Christmas AND Halloween.* Can we have that?

Daddy said, no, we can’t. But, we can have holidays like Love Your Family Day or Gratitude Day every day. Would you like that? And you can have a treat everyday. Sometimes it can be a sweet but most of the time it can be a special fruit. Is that okay?

She was very excited. So Daddy Dinosaur got her the above cupcake from Whole Foods.

I love the idea of Love Your Family Day or Gratitude Day (besides Thanksgiving). I’ve needed constant reminders to open my eyes to the Holiday part of Stay-At-Home-Parentdom.

It sometimes seems like a life full of Deinonychus Days. (Deinonychus, which means Terrible Claw, was a meat-eating dinosaur with large sickle-shaped claws on the second toes of its hind feet.)

It’s been a challenging month, as I’ve mentioned a few posts back, because my whole family was sick for a few weeks. Now they are well but Baby is still not sleeping through the night, and I am writing this blog mostly when my kids are asleep, with Baby Dino at my breast, my body in the strangest of dinosaur contortions. I am extremely tired and have had a headache for a few days.

Last Thursday was the last straw. We were supposed to go down to San Diego for a last minute trip to Legoland. Hub was swamped at work as usual so we ended up not going and losing 2 nights at the Holiday Inn because we had done it through Hotwire, and we couldn’t get a refund, or, worse yet, we couldn’t transfer it to any of our family or friends.

Obviously, there are far, far, worse things in life (the most recent reminders are three emails from people I love–one about a recent cancer diagnosis; the other, an ongoing battle with stage 4 breast cancer and anorexia; another about a decade struggle with depression) and feel so ashamed about my petulance and pettiness. But last Thursday, my heart beat to the awful cadence of a toddler tantrum. I wanted Legoland more than my kids did.

I was in a funk. I felt tired of living at my parents in L.A. without access to self-reliant transportation. I was upset about the continued Cold War That is All About Parking on our street. I was annoyed about living my life in submission to Daddy Dinosaur’s hectic schedule, even though he spends as much time as possible with us, it’s rarely planned; it’s constantly feeling on-call for the moments when he can spend time with his family or feels comfortable to be away from work; we need to work toward planning dates or plans with friends. I was tired of not sleeping and feeling crummy when I wake up. I felt like a failure of a parent who doesn’t do enough for her kids. But mostly, I was tired of myself, feeling upset at myself for being upset about this and either not accepting it or doing something to change this.

But my kids pulled me out of the funk as I just sat back and observed them being them.

Toddler Dino delights me with the things she says and does. “Mommy, I have 9 percent battery left.” “Mommy, why did you eat my seaweed?” “Mommy, look at my picture I drew. It is of a man. He is a nice man.”

Toddler Dino’s Picture of “A Nice Man”

How can you stay in a funk when you now own a Pig-casso?

And today after church–where Toddler Dino saw the weekly bulletin with an icon of St. John the Baptist’s head asking again with concern what happened to him–and Daddy Dino spontaneously taking us to a delicious lunch at Aunty Em’s Kitchen, the whole family took a trip to the park and we took turns helping Toddler Dino fly her little toy helicopter. When it flew up in the air she had sheer delight in her face. And she ran with the wind blowing in her hair (which my resourceful Mom who is not a professional stylist just cut (she just cut mine too, tsk-tsking in Korean about how sad, tired, and old I look and that her latest favorite K-drama is a series called Childless Comfort. I try to refrain from laughing. She’s not subtle) laughing and looking happy.

Baby Dino also gives me joy with his huge, expressive eyes looking adoringly at everyone around him. They are still blue but will likely change to brown like his sister’s. He seems to be struggling with his gut after the antibiotics, with sudden rashes on his face sometimes and I am trying to up his probiotic intake. But I took him to library story time this week and he joyfully crooned and bubbled while the older children were singing. He seems happy for the most part.

If my kids experience happiness, or if we are simply together, it cannot be a Deinonychus Day. They–and my amazing Hub–remind me to not see my cup as half-empty, but overflowing with dinosaurs.

Water Displacement Experiment I Did With Toddler Dino to Explain a bit about Mass: Fill A cup 3/4 full with water, draw a line where the water ends, then fill the cup up with as many dinos as you can, and show that the water level is rising.

*My family doesn’t celebrate Halloween; I do, however, like to pass out candy to trick-or-treaters; it’s hard for me to keep the door closed to tiny dinosaurs, skunks, and robots, especially. Once a 2 foot tall mummy ran into our townhouse up in Nor Cal, and his sumo wrestler dad tried to stop him and got stuck in our doorway for a bit. Anyway, if I may say so, I do make ~~awesome~~ dynamite candy bags marked “Happy Autumn” that are small but have a variety of chocolates and hard candy of recognizable brands, and sometimes an inspirational sticker that says stuff that makes jaded teens’ eyes roll, like “Stay In School”–but they still love my bag because I don’t just pass out Tootsie Pops. I once gave a candy bag (two actually) to a stressed-out UPS guy and his face broke into a grin.

20 February, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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Dinosaurs In Space: The Survival of Dinosaurs According to my 3-year-old

Dinosaur Thought of the Day: Are There Dinosaurs in Space? A Columbia University Chemist seems to think so.

My daughter asked me yesterday again, “Are all dinosaurs dead?”

I said yes, they are extinct.

“How did it happen?”

I told her that no one knows for 100% sure but one main reason was that an asteroid hit the earth; volcanic eruptions may have also been responsible before that.

We were rereading The Dinosaur Alphabet Book and she kept looking at each dinosaur with an enigmatic expression.

She smiled but said, “That’s so sad.” Pause. “That means that Allosaurus is dead.” (It wasn’t in the book, but it is one of her favorite dinosaurs.)

I said, um, yes.

She said, “So, are there no dinosaurs on Earth?”

That seems to be the case.*

“Are there dinosaurs in space?”

I said I wasn’t sure.

“Well,” she said. “I know they are in space, because I saved all the dinosaurs.”

You did? How?

“I took them up in my rocket ship. Then we blasted them off into space!”

But how big was your rocket ship?

“Really big.”

It must have been so big because some of the dinosaurs were enormous.

“Yeah. It was really big. And the big dinosaurs carried the little dinosaurs and they all sat together so there was more space.”

Who(m) did you go with?

“With Mommy and Daddy and my baby brother.”

Where did you take the dinosaurs?

“Uh…to Saturn. Just Saturn.”

Then we did the Dinomite Dinosaur Solar System Game:

My toddler loves talking about the planets; she first names the planets, and then I ask her if there are dinosaurs on that planet. These are her answers (which change). (Try this with your little dino and write down the answers while keeping a straight face):

Mercury: “Meat-eaters live on Mercury.”

Venus: “Venus is too hot for dinosaurs. ”

Earth: “Earth is where we live. There are just plant-eaters.”

Mars: “Mars has [a] Brachiosaurus.”

Jupiter: “Jupiter has a Tyrannosaurus.”

(Here she went off on a tangent: “Pteranadons are not dinosaurs. So maybe they are not extinct. Or for like two minutes. I just saw a dead triceratops, but he was a real dead dinosaur. He was not a bone yet.”)

Saturn: “Saturn has [an] Allosaurus.”

Uranus: “Uranus is too cold for Dinosaurs.”

Neptune: “Neptune is too cold for Dinosaurs.”

Pluto (Technically a Dwarf Planet): “A baby microraptor and a Daddy microraptor. Daddy microraptors are usually huge.” (Tangent:) “They were just going and landed on the moon.”

Then, before she snuggled in my arms: “I do love planets and dinosaurs.”

Do you love Mommy more or dinosaurs more?

“I do love dinosaurs AND Mommy.”

I love you, too, Little Dino.

Trying to drive a concept home to Toddler Dino.

*Of course, I’m not referring to likely descendants of dinosaurs–birds. When Toddler Dino and I are discussing dinos, we’re not talking about birds.

15 February, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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The Flying Elasmosaurus

, The Flying Elasmosaurus

Toddler Dino and I recently looked at parts of an airplane on a NASA website. She told me to draw her a dinosaur plane on her B. Take It Easel. I asked her what she was going to name her plane–The Pteranodon? (Pteranodons were not technically dinosaurs; they were pterosaurs, flying reptiles.) She said, no, call it an Elasmosaurus. (The Elasmosaurus, also, was not technically a dinosaur; it was a plesiosaur.) I said, Elasmosauruses don’t fly; they swim in water. She said, this Elasmosaurus swims in the sky. Call it the Flying Elasmosaurus.

This was just another reminder why it’s so great to be 3, or any age before you learn to think, on habit, inside a box.

14 February, 2013
by Dinomite Mommy
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The Anti-Valentine Dinosaur: Why My Hub Hates This Day

Special Valentine Delivery: Vegetarian Heart-shaped Pizza for my daughter

Dinosaur Thought of the Day: What did dinosaur hearts look like? A supposed fossil was found in 2000 that scientists had previously believed to be the 4-chambered heart of a 66-million year old sauropod named Willo–but it turns out that it was likely sand.

About 18 years ago: when we were in high school together, Daddy Dinosaur gave me an AP Physics Practice Exam Book for Valentine’s Day, even though we weren’t exactly going out, and our relationship was sort of one-sided. (He said he liked me and that we would get married one day and I looked around for the exits at the library.)

Little did I know that that study guide would not only be the most romantic Valentine’s Day gift he got me, but also the only one. Ever.

Fast forward to Feb. 13, 2013: we went on a late night run (well, I stayed with the kids in the car to nurse Baby Dino who screams whenever he is in a stroller or a carseat) to Whole Foods. (The kids, by the way, have developed what is likely an amoxicillin rash now. Sigh.) I turn to my hub and ask him, should we drop some flowers off for your Mom; should we give the Grandmas something for Valentine’s Day. He said, when is it? Tomorrow, I said flatly, slapping his arm in mock despair.

Oh f— me, I took you to Bora Bora [last summer], he said. I know it doesn’t sound funny, but if you knew Daddy Dino the way I do, you would be laughing. Not because of the expletive, which he later apologized for, but because of this extreme angst that this seemingly benign holiday causes him.

As Twilight’s Bella is “unconditionally and irrevocably in love” with Edward, I guess you can use those adverbs to emphasize how against Valentine’s Day* is my hub. I’m not saying he would take the side of the Hindu militants who were shown on CNN all morning beating up Valentines Day “romantics”. But he will not buy me a Valentine. We don’t even go out to a Valentine-y restaurant (we did once to an old Italian place in Berkeley when we were law students, and all he could talk about was how much it sucked).

He thinks this is the cheesiest commercial holiday in the world. I’ve analyzed him and have concluded that he, like so many guys, hates this day because he feels coerced to prove his love with red cellophane/overpriced roses/exorbitant chocolates and manipulated sentiments from Hallmark cards. Valentine’s Day is a large puppeteer who plops him onto stage, when he doesn’t want to perform.

I know he loves me, and he’s always been extremely generous with me. He’s also been mindful of our moms and daughter on this day; it’s okay with them because they aren’t expecting ROMANCE written in florid cursive. But to hub, Valentine’s Day is a badly written love poem he refuses to recite, and so– I’ve given up on hoping for anything this day from him that is any shade of red or having to do with candied LUV.

However, I love this day. In the past, I have given a tiny gift to one or more people, or try to hang out with someone else who doesn’t have Valentine’s Day plans, or, if it falls on a church day, I would also attend a service and try to remember people who don’t have anyone who love them.

This Valentine, I will do that, but also make this the best day yet for my kids ever. I don’t think hub will be against that or making this day a family day.

Anyway, when my hub came back from Whole Foods, he gave me an extremely expensive probiotic yogurt drink and a package of some organic ice cream brownies for our daughter. Okay, he said matter-of-factly. Happy Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry, but this is all you’re going to get. Nothing planned tomorrow. You know how I feel.

I love you, too, Daddy Dinosaur. And Happy Valentine’s Day, Everybody. And whether you hate this day or not, I recommend this lively poem by Auden: O Tell Me The Truth About Love.

*Hub wouldn’t be against celebrating Valentine’s Day as a religious holiday. For Orthodox Christians, there are several St. Valentines we commemorate, just not on February 14.

UPDATE 2/15/13: I showed Daddy Dino, who doesn’t read my blog, my post yesterday. I also made him a Valentine latte and a heart-shaped organic brownie with heart shaped pears and made big innocent eyes at him. He came back from work that evening with sandwiches for me and Toddler Dino and three Trader Joe’s bouquets–albeit none of the flowers were roses, pink, or red–for our Moms, and one for me. I almost fainted from shock. So, ladies, the moral of the story is, if you want results, make something edible with a lot of hearts to make your hub feel incredibly guilty and talk about your hub on your blog.

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