It took me nearly 2 1/2 years after my son was born to give him his first haircut. All along, I had cut his bangs a little, but never the back of his hair. For months, my mom had been telling me to cut his hair. Most of the time, people thought he was a girl. And, his hair was kind of wispy, not super thick. But I still saw it as my son’s precious baby hair, and it took me a long time to prepare myself to cut it.

My mom kept emphasizing that it’s good to cut hair, so that it stimulates the scalp (or something like that) and new hair will grow back thicker and stronger. Everytime we visited my grandma, she would lament after looking at his hair and say, it’s so thin. None of those reasons were good enough to me, though. I know in some cultures (including mine, Chinese), it is common to shave a baby’s head either at one month or 6 months or so, regardless of whether the baby’s a boy or girl. That way, the hair will grow back stronger.

The real reason I was motivated to cut his hair is similar to why I usually cut my hair (also rarely these days) — for a change. My son had just entered a two-week phase of being extremely whiny, demanding and tantrumy. Miraculously, he’s never gone through his “terrible twos,” at least how I imagined it, yet. But all of a sudden, in that two week span, it was really, really difficult communicating with him, and even just being around him for the entire day. I was frustrated. I wanted my child back!

I didn’t so much blame the hair, but talked to my mom about his behavior. She mentioned again that perhaps I should cut his hair; it might change his energy and give him better “qi.” There was a thought I could go with. After all, perhaps his long sideburns tickling his face (he was always pushing his hair away), his long locks rubbing his neck in the middle of summer, and his bangs were all just too much for him and added to his irritableness. I could buy that. And at that point, I was desperate for a change! It wouldn’t hurt, I thought. I had been preparing for this day for months, it seemed.

First, I looked up all the kid salons in the area. They sounded fun and great but quickly decided that I wanted to be the one to give him his first haircut. The next step was gathering all the gear (scissors, comb, spray bottle, mirror, popsicles and his favorite video).

I looked to YouTube for guidance and found an excellent video of a mom cutting her son’s hair. I followed her steps almost to the tee. Except instead of a lollipop (my son has never had candy before), I made popsicles, to make sure he’d sit still for what I expected to be a long and tedious process. Turns out I didn’t even need popsicles. My son dutifully sat for a full 30 minutes with his eyes glued to my computer screen, which was playing one of his favorite videos, Planet B-Boy. Before I put in the DVD, though, I showed him the youtube video and told him what was going on. Then i asked if he would like me to cut his hair too. He nodded enthusiastically. That was a good sign.

That made my job fairly easy. My partner documented the whole thing on video. I first put the back of his hair in a ponytail and then snipped it off. (That’s going in the scrapbook that I have yet to start on). After that, it was very easy.

I wondered what he would think, seeing himself in the mirror afterwards. He looked like a little boy now, bigger than a baby or toddler. I gave him the mirror and he just looked, and kind of gave a smile.  Then I think he forgot about it all and just started playing (as I cleaned up a mess of hair on the floor, chair, etc).

But i will say this: I believe the haircut did change his qi. He seemed a lot more pleasant overall, totally left the tantrumy phase, was just happier. And I was happier being able to see his lovely face, seeing him grow up. He looked different, for sure. It was definitely a big milestone, one that took me months to get ready for! I’ve given him one trim since then, and now he will see pics of people getting haircuts and tell me that “mama” gives him haircuts.

One thing I love about being a mom, I admit, is all the fun stuff I get to do with my son. I am one of those parents that likes to play with all the kids’ toys, likes to go to the zoo, kids’ museums, and so on. Part of it is probably because growing up, we didn’t really have the same types of toys and places to go to; certainly, I didn’t play with things like drums or even a lot of play dough. (I had a lot of dolls to play with, mostly hand me downs or toys I shared with my older sister).

One activity that I love and find super therapeutic is making and playing with homemade playdough.  I found this online recipe through a friend and have been making batched since my son was around 1 year old.

When I say therapeutic, I do mean it.  The squishy material is soothing for harried souls, and that includes adults and children.  People often say that babies and tots have it easy; everything is done for them, they can sleep whenever they want, they have no worries, etc.  But I think children actually go through a lot, from small to big changes that they are not in control of.  So for whatever it’s worth, some play dough,  I think, is relaxing for the child too.

Our play dough play has changed over time. Before, we’d just make balls of colored dough. Then we would “cook” stuff like pretzels, bread, hot dogs (which is funny, because he’s never had a hot dog), etc. Then my son really got into statues, so I would make Buddha (is that sacrilegious?), lucky cats, dogs, and other figures from play dough. Nowadays I give him a muffin pan and he makes muffins, cupcakes or mooncakes. We don’t even have the plastic gear that kids often use with play dough, like the noodle maker and cookie cutters or things like that, though I should invest in some.

The options are endless, really. When we have our adult friends over, I usually give them some dough to see what they end up making; it’s actually an interesting experiment to see what people come up with, and how creative they get! It really brings out the inner child in all of us, I think, and is a soothing activity, to boot.

What are some other simple and fun activities that you do with your child at home?

Labor Day recently passed us all by. The picnics, parades, fireworks , and endless speeches always seem to be interpreted as the final celebration of summer. It’s a day that encompasses hard work and play at the same time; it wakes us up to the reality of another school year, another year of hard work while we barbeque and party to our hearts content . It made me wonder: Are work and play really that different from one another, and should they be compartmentalized as such?
          In the mind of my toddler, work and play are one in the same; it is hard work to build a stack of blocks or attempt to color a picture within the lines, but she loves to do these things as well. It made me realize that work, and play both have something immensely important in common with one another: passion. I began to think about the different jobs people in my life have, and whether they were happy in their jobs or not. Those who chose their jobs on account of intense passion for their vocation are extremely happy, while those who simply want a paycheck see their jobs as a means to an end. It made me think of how I want my child to view a job. I want her to be passionate about what she accomplishes in life, to find meaning in her daily tasks. I want her to find a job where she can ‘play hard.’ I don’t believe that a job should be laborious; it should fill the soul.
           It’s hard to live by such a manifesto as a parent. I not only have to reach for my dreams, but I have to teach my little one to reach for hers, which might mean she has to take risks, which might mean she falls flat on her feet a few times, and it is quite hard to watch your child, no matter how old, fall flat on his or her feet. I intend to remind myself on this past Labor Day, and the others that will come, that my child is the only person who knows her dreams, goals and aspirations. Whether that means she wants to be a lady on a flying trapeze, a policewoman, a doctor, or social worker…I cannot say. I only need to guide her to listen to her inner voice, to give her the confidence to follow her dreams, like a tiny Don Quixote reaching for stars that everyone else tells her are beyond her grasp.

It had been a while, 3 years to be exact, since my husband and I had made the trip into Pittsburgh for my grandmother’s mother’s Pernatozzi family reunion picnic. And yes, I said my grandmother’s mother’s side of the family; they’re 100% Italian, so to them the bonds of family, no matter how extended, seem to surpass time it-self. My father, (the Italian one of course), always emphasized the importance of family, no matter how distantly related; this taught me to treat everyone I met like a family member. Now, since I had not been to the picnic for a grand total of 3 years, (considered to be eons for the Pernatozzi side), it was ‘highly recommended’ that I make this trip. Italians can be so persistent! As my husband, 3 year-old toddler, and I drove in late on a Saturday night to attend the picnic, I wondered whether it was worth the extra effort. My answer was about to come.

When we approached the park site, a plethora of images ran through my head: I saw my Uncle Kevin leading the kid’s games like the egg toss or three-legged race. I saw the men gathered in a circle making gestures with their hands as they shouted out strange words like ‘due’ and ‘otto.’ I imagined my Grandmother and her sister swaying and singing along to Italian song, Funiculi Funicula. I envisioned figures in the distance tossing red and green balls toward a fixed target. And I could almost smell the sweet savory scent of smoked sausages through the intense summer heat.

We finally reach the picnic, and it’s as if no time has passed. There is still a spread of Italian sausage, fried eggplant, cheese, fruit and some American fare on the tables. There are still men within a circle playing the Italian hand game of morra. The competitive bocce game remains as distant cousins play games of horseshoe nearby. Dynamic would be far too temperate a word to describe the energy of the day; it was an explosive event full of life and energy. And that’s what I love about the Italian part of my family; they constantly remind me to live life to the fullest, although I think Laura Pausini sings it best in Andrea Bocelli’s song, Vivere,

“Try looking at tomorrow, not yesterday, and all the things you left behind. Oh those tender words you did not say, the gentle touch you couldn’t find. In these days of nameless faces, there’s no one truth, but only pieces. My life is all I have to give. Dare to live, until the very last. Dare to live, forget about the past. Dare to live, giving of your-self to others, even when it seems there’s nothing more left to give.”

I hope we can all ‘dare to live.’

My three year old seems to be developing new food aversions by the day.  As a mom, I’m trying to figure out ways to make healthy food fun for her, or perhaps even sneak a bit of veggies or extra fruit into her meals without her knowledge!  As a child, my parents introduced me to foods of multiple cultures and ethnic backgrounds.  I want to provide the same experience for my child, but she is beginning to voice her own opinion more (a good thing), and with that comes the typical ‘I don’t like that!’ (not such a good thing).  In search of ways to help my toddler become more open-minded towards healthful cuisine, I found some interesting tips and techniques that I would like to share.

A few tips for Moms

Determine ‘why’ your child dislikes a specific kind of food.

1.       Does he or she have an aversion to certain types of texture?

2.       Does he or she have an aversion to a specific flavor or spice?

3.       Is he or she afraid to try something new?

4.       Does he or she enjoy the food unknowingly with other flavors present?

Knowing what the ‘aversion’ is will actually help you to re-create the same food in a more appealing light.  Below are a few specific techniques to recreate the dish that your child dislikes.

1.        If your child dislikes nuts, but you want to include some healthy omega 3’s in his or her diet, simply pulse walnuts in a food processor until they reach a flour-like consistency.  Then mix your nut puree into the dry ingredients of your favorite recipe.   They can replace some of the ‘bad fat’ in a cake, muffins or even dessert bread.

2.        Puree, Puree, Puree!  Pulse those veggies down in a food processor until your little one has no idea that your pasta sauce has pureed zucchini, broccoli and red peppers within it!  Just be sure that you cook your veggies before you puree them.  They are much smoother that way.  You could even grill the vegetables to add some extra flavor before you puree.  Or puree a banana and some berries to add moisture and fiber to your muffin mix.

3.       Sub ¼ canola oil for the typical amount of butter you use in a muffin batch.

4.       Substituting whole wheat flour can be a bit rough in texture for the typical young palate.  Try whole wheat pastry flour instead in your cakes, breads and muffins.  I like to use a 1:1 ratio of whole wheat pastry flour to white flour.  This adds fiber and nutrients to your baked goods without weighing it down, as whole wheat flour tends to do.

5.       Take your little one to a farmers market.   Make selecting veggies and fruits fun!  They can even pick a few out and tell you what they enjoy eating!

6.        Pick pumpkins at a local pumpkin patch in the fall or go strawberry picking at a local farm midsummer.  Don’t just make healthy foods accessible on your table, but show where they come from as well.   

Quite often, when one thinks of vacation, one’s mind is immediately drawn to places outside of the United States.  This year, my family found our-selves not on vacation, but residing at our home away from home, Kiawah Island, South Carolina.  My grandparents on my mother’s side have a home on Kiawah Island.  Strange as it is, my husband’s grandmother on his mother’s side also owns a home there.  We both feel a bond to that Island.  As kids, my husband and I remember the Kiawah that used to be.  We remember the quiet beaches, the local roadside vegetable markets, and the wonderful preservation of the surrounding ecosystem.  It was a place where people could embrace nature in a pure form without giving up the comforts of home.  It was a modern day lifestyle that embraced the efforts of the Kiawah Indians.  We brought our daughter to Kiawah this year, and as I watched her play in the surf, I felt a strange melancholy come over me; my daughter would never know the pure Kiawah that I knew.  The quiet beaches and no-fuss island life that I knew is slowly disappearing, and in its place stands a ritzier, more glamorous, and much more populated Kiawah.  It begged the question: what kind of Kiawah would we leave her? 

            Even as the island has gained recognition, it remains one of the most carefully preserved barrier islands that exist today; hopefully this will not change.  The Kiawah Island of old was owned by the Kiawah Indians, populated with wild horses racing through the waves.  In the 1980’s nature tours had to be given in a safari-like automobile while tourists were given a layout of the land in the midst of bobcats, wild horses, herons and alligators.  The natural habitat is authentic on Kiawah specifically because of the many laws that protect the wild life on the island.  For example, there are no street lights on Kiawah; the community does not want to disrupt the natural cycle for the animals.  Not only do the animals have the communities’ respect, but the actual land itself has immense respect from the people of Kiawah.  The fact that no building is permitted on the dunes certainly prevents any additional erosion.  I hope that my daughter gets to experience the ecosystem of Kiawah.  I hope that things do not become too commercialized.  Seeing my little one splash in the water made me realize just how simple it is to enjoy nature and how humans are naturally drawn toward natural wonders: waterfalls, beaches, mountains, caverns, lakes and valleys.   We all travel to see and experience these things.  There seems to be something within nature itself that is innately human.  Hopefully we won’t lose that piece of ourselves within nature as these areas that we love so dearly become more and more populated.   There is an Indian saying that I really connect with regarding these issues: ‘Mitakuye oyasin!’  Literally translated, it means: ‘we are all related.’  Hopefully we remember these words and treat the land as if we are all related, the ocean, the moon, the stars, the animals, the people; we are all related.

At times I think another culture can offer insight into our own culture. It took a specific experience that I had in Greece combined with an experience of my fathers’ (with his close Japanese acquaintance), that made me realize what may be sparse within American culture.

I can remember it quite clearly. We were in Corinth, at a local tavern. From the rustic table where we sat, we could hear the owner pounding on the steaks and chopping the tomatoes with exact precision. It was an art to him, not to be rushed. We could hear joyful conversation coming from the kitchen. The chopping, pounding and laughing all seemed to fuse into our surroundings and melded into a lovely evening full of a banter which seemed to last for ages. It was so different from the hustle and bustle of the typical American lifestyle.

I was reminded of that night recently when my father told me a story about one of his Japanese friends. Instead of being disappointed by the fact that they would not be able to go site seeing on a rainy day, Kiko simply replied, “Well, we can enjoy listening to the rain drops.” Such a simple thing to enjoy! Such a simple thing to say! But I can’t quite picture an American saying it. My father’s meeting taught me a lesson. She taught me to listen, to pay attention and actually take the time to quietly observe my own surroundings, (even the simple sound of falling rain), in the same way that I would observe some new enchanting art exhibit. She taught me that there is something about being in the moment that changes one’s attitude about one’s surroundings. Perhaps by savoring each sense as we experience it, we become more involved in our environment, and in turn we actually enjoy our experiences at a higher level.

Although we often search for locations that offer quiet and tranquil surroundings, perhaps we can find the same serenity in the midst of our own homes. Sometimes the fresh smell of chopped produce or the slight sound of dropping rain can become a tranquil moment if only we wish it to be. Perhaps we simply need to be mindful of our own environments. To learn more about other cultures is to learn more about our own, and in turn it opens a door to learning about the ‘American Self.’ And maybe, just maybe, a little introspection can go a long way. As for teaching my two and a half year-old to be introspective, well, I guess I’ll just have to start out by modeling my behavior first and figure the rest out along the way!