Many things have scared me in my lifetime. But there are a few that still freak me out. The most recent -

1. THE SCREAM - An oversold plane. Running an hour behind schedule. The passengers were all sleep. Half-way through the trip, suddenly, a high-pitched scream pierced the air. My baby boy who was on my lap decided he did not want to sit still any longer and started to stomp on the seat in front of us in protest. He then proceeded to pull the lid off his sippy cup and poured all the water on us and threw the cup somewhere on the plane all while shreiking. While looking apologetically at our fellow travelers who had to turn to see the commotion, I sat in wet jeans, covered in froot loops the rest of the trip home because I was not smart enough to pack extra clothes for myself.

2. THE FORGOTTEN - After a long trip with our 2 rambunctious little boys in the Carribean, we check out of our resort. We meticulously reviewed all of our travel documents, arrangements, and luggage when we see our baby getting a little fussy. The horror dawns on us that we cannot find his blankie - WE LEFT IT ON THE BED IN OUR JUST CHECKED-OUT ROOM. As I race back to the room, I find that it had ALREADY BEEN CLEANED! We still had to get to the airport and on a 2-legged flight back to Chicago with a tired baby looking for his blankie! Nooooooo!

My hubby is a horror movie buff who has dragged me to see some of his favorites.
None of them come close to the terror I felt those days.

[NOTE: Beaches Resort saw how pathetic we were and sent someone to the laundry to check all the bedding to find Mr. Monkey Blanket. Thank God they came back with blankie in time for baby to nap.]

And a Happy Halloween to you.

In the haste of my crazy day, I called my baby the dog's name. And I went through a litany of other names before I got to his. Proud moment.

As I hung my head low, I recall the naming process we had for our kidlets.

Our first born was destined to have a name that honored Michael's brother, Gary, who left this earth too soon.  We also wanted something to represent both our cultures. I had the bright idea of using an old family name as the middle name (it's a filipino thing).

ME: I have it! Gary Martinez Kaplan
*Pause. Stare at each other.
MICHAEL: Two words. Juan Epstein.

We then both start humming theme to 'Welcome Back Kotter'.

Ok, back to the internet.

Lo and behold, we found the perfect name - starts with a 'G', and it is unique, classic.

Gabriel Kaplan - we can call him Gabe for short. Gabe Kaplan.

And we're back to 'Welcome Back Kotter'.

Then we really finally found the perfect moniker. A name that blended both Gary's names and also honored my father.

Gary+Bennett (our first) + Dad's name = Garrett Rene Kaplan

It was perfect.

When Rylan was born, we thought to honor my parents using their initals. 'R' and 'Z' - that 'Z' really limited our search. As much as I enjoyed Superman 2, 'Zod' was not an option.

But we came across a great combination: Rylan Zane Kaplan.

By chance, I noticed our whole creative process had a special turn. Putting the first two letters of their names together

GARRETT  +  RYLAN   =  GARY

A suprise gift to remember a very special person through our children.

And a bonus theme song for our efforts.

I fell for it. The deluxe potty training toilet. The best toilet that money could buy. The fact that the design was a throne should have been enough, but the throne would play a tune if it it was used properly. I was sold.

My wishful thinking made me grab this ginormous box despite not having a cart. Never mind I was dropping all the other stuff I didn't need a cart for - batteries, wetnaps, ibuprofen - my boy was gonna master the potty the minute I got home with this prize.

2 months later.

When he wants to hear the throne's congratulatory tune, he turns it over and pushes the button.
Next step - we did what every good parent does. We resorted to bribery.

The training is going rather well. He's trained us to give him toys if he 'kinda' sits on the throne.

Makes me wonder if he is prolonging our ignorance in this process to milk as many toys as possible. If that was the case, then he's brilliant!

Speaking of potty - we were advised when Garrett was born to make sure we watch the language because kids could be the best mimics. Sure, sure - we got this handled - what, were we raised in a barn?

Apparently, we were.

So, in the past year, we have enjoyed hearing our eldest's vocabulary expand. Oh, so many poignant memories:

At Rylan's baptism in the parking lot when Garrett's food spilled all over Daddy's new car. And how we all tried to insist daddy really said 'Awwww, Duck!'

When Nana accidentally let a tagalog swear escape her mouth as Garrett tripped and fell. Nana is now "known" as that cuss word. And we can never go to a filipino party again.

Or when he just runs around chirping some choice words because he knows he gets a reaction from us. We have learned to just freeze - kinda like Jurassic Park. 'Don't move - they can detect motion.'

My favorite is when I accidentally let out a cuss word when driving in the rain, and a driver cut us off. I sort of forgot my child was in his seat when I said 'a**hole'. Garrett the Parrot needed to join in and yelled 'Apple!' as we drove past. God, I love my kid.

Instead of thinking I always need to teach my kids - I need to remember I can always learn from them too.

After a 4 day business trip in Texas, excitement consumed me to get home to mi familia.

Out of the business clothes and into the only clean, comfy clothes I have left. Cargo shorts with drawstrings that continually untie themselves, thus making me look like I am wearing fringe; a bright yellow sleeveless top, my white socks that just reach over my ankles, and my Reeboks - the kind that apparently work your core and butt as you walk - it's essentially a balance ball in the sole, forcing you to keep your muscles engaged.

You put this ensemble together, it basically says, 'Mug me, I'm a tourist.'

So I arrive at the airport early, only to have to wait 4 hours due to a delay in the plane. Mind you, I'm on a flight with 15 of my co-workers.

Ok, fine. We touch down in Chicago, missing a crazy storm during the flight. As we taxi to the gate, the rain, thunder and lightning all of a sudden intesify. About 50 yards from our gateway, the pilot announces that the groundcrew cannot get us into the gate because of the hazzardous weather. We have to wait it out.

We waited for 2.5 hours on the tarmac, in the plane. 50 yards away from the gate. So close - yet, so far.
They break out the emergency pretzels. Then they run out of water. I tried to laugh it off, but the stale pretzels made me choke and put an end to that.

Even with the little water I drank, I had to use the plane bathroom. For some reason, being stuck on a plane makes people forget how to aim or how to flush.

Then, a guy in first class started having a conniption demanding we get off the plane or at least fly us out to the next city that would let us off the plane. Oh, and he was dressed as a chef. 

FINALLY, we got to the gate. My colleague, wrapped in a pashmina, in business attire complete with heels and a smile looked flawless as we de-planed.

I looked like I fell out of the plane.

I proceed to rush to baggage claim so I can get home, and my core-strengthening Reeboks were not cooperating with me. After sitting for so long, I could barely walk. I'm all over the place. I look like I need to go to the bathroom. How I managed the moving sidewalks, I'll never know.

I get home - 2AM.

I wake up the next morning and immediately dial into a conference call. I'm congratulating myself on being punctual, despite the terrible night, only to be told that my call was an hour later, and that I was on someone else's meeting.

FINALLY, the moment I've been waiting for - I get to pick up my darling boys at my parents. How I missed them. THANK GOD FOR GRANDPARENTS!

As we drive back to the city, the baby starts to cry, most likely, he's tired. Thinking my baby wants to be soothed by his mommy's voice, I start singing my kids' favorite song,

ME: Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. How I wonder wha-
GARRETT: All done!

Ok, it's been 4 days since I sang to them, so maybe he just forgot how much he enjoys this. I'll continue.

ME: Twinkle, Twin-
GARRETT: All done! All Done!! ALL DONE!!!!!


Translation: Your 'Twinkle, Twinkle' stinkle stinkles.

 
Back home. At long last, I was able to wind down as Daddy put Garrett to sleep, and Rylan fell asleep on me. I thought back to all my whining the past 2 days. Nothing really major, more stuff to laugh about.

I'm fortunate I have a job. I have a family. I have a sense of humour. Things are ok.

Nothing like a sleeping baby on your tummy to keep you grounded.

On a side note, I wanted to do more for yesterday's RANDOM ACT OF KINDNESS DAY. I was only able to surprise a sweet young waiter/musician with a gift. But, there is still much more I can do to remember a loved one. So this week, I'm going to complete my mission.

MISSION: Keep humble. Honor a loved one who has passed.

It's therapeutic, especially after a surreal week. I highly suggest it.

Do you remember in school, for group projects, there was always that one person - the one that would cause you to cringe if you found out was a member of your group?

You knew right then and there that slacker person would never do work, forcing the rest of the group to pony up extra effort so we could get a decent grade. 

I recall a few international students who would conveniently forget how to speak english when it came time to present, write, offer suggestions, or even show up to meetings. After a project was done, all of a sudden, they speak better English than John Attenborough. Even though it irked me, it was brilliant.

I thought that scenario would be left behind in my school years. I was wrong.

Do you remember the first time a 'colleague' would somehow point fingers for project failure, when we all know what the real 'issue' was? I am reminded of the classic addage 'He who smelt it, dealt it.'

And when all is said and done, you still have to endure the excruciating personal chit chat you have with people you cannot stand, because it is all part of the game?

I'm not a politician, so why do I have to be political?

Come on, we've all been there at some point in time. You can pretty much change one or 2 words in these paragraphs, and it'd describe exactly what you experienced this past week. We've all been thrown under the bus and still had to be friendly with the thrower. That's right, I said it.

We all operate based on our situation. We all have motivations on what we do in life. Some, I prefer to just disregard. Some irritate me beyond words. And some I try to reason why people behave that way. Maybe they are sick? (Mentally, yes, but physically?)

After difficult days, I try to take a step back. I do what I need to, and then focus on what's really important. I consider myself a thespian at times. Hiding disdain is really hard.

But ultimately, I can still embrace my frustrations in a humorous way. I've joined the CLUB, have you?

Office Attire.                                                          Pride.