I was up late last night finishing up laundry so we can spend the weekend out. While waiting for the clothes to dry to put in another load, I spent time on Facebook rather than reading an exciting book on Miles Davis Quintet. I wasted two hours checking people I knew from high school. Some became doctors; some guys went back to Vietnam to married and some are still playing with cocks. Cockfighting never seems old to some people.

I went to bed around 12:30, which was about 15 minutes later than usual. I got up early this morning and got ready for work. Today Dao has doctor’s appointment for two years check up so I didn’t have to wake him up and brush his teeth. After getting all dressed up, I went back into bed saw him and his mom all cuddling up together. He loves to sleep in Dana’s arm. He took over my favorite spot. Dana needed a bathroom break so I lay down next to him. He got up but his eyes still closed so I quickly grabbed him and pulled him into my chest with his cheek rested next to my cheek. What a soft, smooth cheek on his face. He felt back into sleep and I just held on him tight. The weather was a bit chilly today and he felt so warm. I closed my eyes and enjoyed half an hour that I will never forget.

For some odd reasons, he always gets up early and jumps all over us when the weekend comes. Let’s hope that he won’t up early tomorrow and Sunday so we could have more cuddle time like that. Priceless.

By the way, here’s a video of Dao playing Chuggington Bowling. Pretty creative idea, huh?

You turn two today my boy. What a wonderful joy seeing you being thrilled. Love the look on your face when we sang the birthday song for you and your eagerness to blow out the candle on the beautiful Thomas Train cake Bac Tram made for you. Love the excitement you displayed when you opened up the presents. Love to see you interacted with other kids and participated in egg-hunting activity and painting. Love to see you ran on spare battery until 6pm without an afternoon nap.

Son, it’s still unreal that you are two. Seeing you progress has been one of the greatest joys of being a dad. When folks asked me what do I do for fun and I would tell them “raising my son.” At first, it is just an excuse to hide the boring side of me, but being with you makes my life exciting. You’re my aspiration. Before you came into my life, I thought that being a parent is all about taking care of his kid, but you have proved me wrong. You have been there for me when I need you the most. I feel rejuvenated just being with you. The smile on your face always brights up my day. You’re the little pillow I hug on to at night. You’re the little fellow that could magically lift me up whenever I felt down.

Thank you for everything you have given me so far. I can’t wait to see what you’ll have next for me in the years to come. Happy birthday, dear Dao. I love you.

In her latest post, “Kids Want to be Heard!,” Jen Karin writes:

And so, I learned valuable parenting lesson #2,362,580: kids just want to be heard. In fact, they are dying to be heard. In fact, shut up and let them talk, already!

Reading her blog reminds me of my own almost-two-year-old boy who wants to be heard. At night he would choose the same book, Hooper Humperdink…? Not Him, but he wants to read to me instead. The first time I tried to read to him, he cut me off. Dao is not yet interested in the text. He’s more into the illustrations, but with his own interpretation. For instance, when he points to the house, he would say, “Nha Bac Tram” (Aunty Tram’s house). When he points to the bridge, he would say, “cau… i” (bridge… taking a dump). You have to be Vietnamese to get that joke. He learned that from me. What they say is true. You tell the kids once, they remember forever. When he points to the airplane with people inside at the dinning table, he would say, “bay bay (airplane)… eat your food.”

I can’t hardly wait until he becomes an independent reader to find out what stories he would tell me. That day will come pretty soon. He’s turning two in just three days. I can’t believe it’s two years already. If time goes by this fast, being parent isn’t so bad at all. In another sixteen years, I could probably head back to the club and get my groove on again.

Last Thursday we took our boy to ER when his temperature skyrocketed to 105.6F. After about half an hour waiting (pretty short for an ER patient), a strong, African-American nurse took us in. The first she did was giving him acetaminophen and ibuprofen.

As we tried to get him to cooperate, she knew that we were new parents. She showed Dana how to hold him down by placing one of his arm under hers so she can squeeze the medication into his mouth. Dao knows how to make himself throw up when he doesn’t want to take something, so the trick was to point the syringe to one side of his mouth near his cheek.

After the nurse gave him the medication, she told us that she has two boys and it is perfectly ok to force him to take the medication. Babies are stronger than we think so using a bit of strength is ok. She stressed the important of giving him medication in order to prevent him from getting seizure.

At times I felt horrible for holding him down, locking his feet with my leg and stick a toothbrush into his mouth to brush his teeth, something he really hates. Even though he likes to do it himself, he doesn’t know how to do it correctly yet, but he wouldn’t let us help him. So every time I brushed his teeth, it looked as if we were wrestling. He would scream his lung out, but when I finished and let him go, he would get up and complimented himself, “Dao gioi” (Dao’s good). I don’t know about that, but it’s kind of hilarious.

So now I don’t feel so bad anymore after what the nurse has told me. As long as I am doing good things for him, a little force is perfectly fine. The funny thing was yesterday he figured out how to get his arm around Dana’s arm and tried to yank the syringe away as I pumped medication into his mouth.

One of the good things about Dao is that he thinks before he speaks. I have to learn that from him as well. For instance when he hit his head against the door, he paused a little, said “dau dau” (head hurts), and then let out a big scream. So when he pointed at something, he would pause for a second to find the word before he would say it. So what I have been doing is that if I could sense that he was about to say something in English, I would cut him off first in Vietnamese. So let say that he was pointing to the keys and before he could say the word, I would cut in and say “chia khoa.” So he would begins with “k…” for keys, but quickly switch to “chia khoa.”

I do that with the words that he already knew in English. The drawback is that he might think it’s ok to cut someone off simply because daddy does it. I remember my grandma used to tell me, “khong co duoc an com hot,” which means “do not scoop the top layer of the rice” or cutting somebody off. Hopefully, I could straighten up his manner later on. I have to say, I really enjoy hearing him speaks Vietnamese. For instance, when he farted, he would say “Dao dich” with the “ch” pronounced at the end.

At 23 months, Dao is very picky about his taste. He would try something in small amount first before he decided to like or dislike. The other day, I let him taste Naked juice through a straw. He took a sip, nodded his head lightly and said, “Nice.” Dana and I were very surprised. How did he come up with that? Naked juice tastes “nice?” He finished a 10-oz bottle after that and Naked juice has become one of his favorite drinks. His compliment now stuck with me. Every time I look at a bottle of Naked juice, “nice” is the first word that comes to mind. If Naked juice were to run this commercial, I am sure it would stuck in viewers’ mind as well.

The past couple of days had been quite a drama. It all started on Wednesday around 3:30pm when I received a call from Dao’s daycare telling me to pick him up. His temperature went up to 103F. I immediately took the Metro over to Dana’s workplace to get the car. Unfortunately a sick person boarded the train at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport and passed out. The train had to return to Crystal City to unload all the passengers. Half an hour later, we were allowed to board again after the Metro staff took the sick person off the train. I kept trying call Dana, but she didn’t pick up the phone because somebody left her home at home. We came and picked him up around 5 and he was playing around and seemed fine.

On Thursday, I felt a little down so I stayed home with Dao. Around 10, Dao wanted to go to “table train.” So I took him out. I stopped by the ATM to get some cash. While waiting in line, our brand new Toyota Sienna (with 7,000) stalled. That was strange. On the busy traffic highway the mini-van stalled again several times. Instead of driving to the mall for “table train,” I made a detour to the dealership. The car is still being diagnosed because the computer couldn’t detect any problem. The dealer is working with Toyota on it and we can’t get it back until Monday or Tuesday.

I called Dana up to pick us up. After dropped her back to work, we headed home. It was around lunch time and Dao said “lunch.” So I warmed up the porridge Dana made for him. I tried to feed him and he said “Eat your lunch.” I suspect this is something he has learned in school. I gave him milk and put him to bed. His temperature was around 99-100F the whole day until he was napping, which shot up to 103. I called the pediatrician and the nurse suggested to call again if he reached 105F and didn’t act normal. After he woke up, I took him to a bookstore closed to Dana’s work so we could pick her up afterward. Dao refused to play his table train. I bought a raisin oatmeal cookie. I ate all the oatmeal and he ate some of the raisins.

We went over to my sister-in-law’s house for dinner and Dao didn’t act himself. He was not active or interactive. After we went home, he vomited and the temperature went up to 105.F. We immediately took him to ER, which is about two blocks from our house. The doctor gave him Acetaminophen and Ibuprofen to calm down his temperature. He also subscribed Amoxicillin for his ear infection.

Friday I stayed with him a whole day. We hang around the house watching Curious George, playing basketball and bowling. He napped quite a long time in the afternoon. I held him inside my arms and listened to Le Cat Trong Ly while the rain was pouring outside. After he woke up, we went to pick up Dana from work. He told her, “Xe moi bi hu. Phai di xua.” (New car broke down. We need to get it fixed.)

Saturday morning, his temperature was still high around 101F so we paid his pediatrician a visit. She examined him and said that his ears are getting better, but if his temperature won’t come down on Monday we have to bring him back in. We went to a friend’s kid birthday party for about two hours. He ate some food and played at the toy kitchen by himself until he pointed to the door and said “di ra.” We went home and went to bed around 9.

I woke up at 4 when Dao suddenly cried. I couldn’t go back to sleep feelig hungry. So went downstairs and to have s croissant and fried eggs. Now too full to go to sleep so I just write up this long post. Even though it was a very miserable week, the time we spent together were invaluable. I loved every moment of it. It hurts me more seeing him sick and forcing him to take his medication, but it is part of being a parent.

We visited a very closed friend of our family who lived next to us in Vietnam. She’s my sister age. She and her husband speak Vietnamese, Chinese and English. They have four kids and they all speak English and Chinese, but no Vietnamese.

One of my cousins married a Chinese woman. He speaks Vietnamese, Chinese and English. They have two kids and they both speak English and Chinese, but no Vietnamese.

You probably get my point already. I know many many Vietnamese couples who English aren’t so good, yet their kids speak only English. What is going on here? Are we not teaching our kids Vietnamese?

We try our best to speak only Vietnamese to Dao, but he spends most of his day at daycare speaking English. For now he uses both languages. If we teach him something first, he would remember it. For instance, he would say “ech” whenever he sees the picture of a frog rather than “frog.” On the other hand, no matter how many times I said “con voi” to him, he would only say “elephant” first when he sees image of an elephant.

Fortunately, one of the teachers at the daycare is Vietnamese and so they both talk in Vietnamese. His assigned teachers would say to us that whenever Dao and Ms. Tam talk they have no idea. At times, he mixed both languages and confused the heck out of his teachers, but they are very encouraging about him speaking Vietnamese.

My goal is to teach him Vietnamese. So if you have successfully teach your kids Vietnamese, please share your tips. We have to teach our kids to learn their native language.

This morning, I had to carry Dao on my right and his lunchbox and umbrella with my left. When we stopped at the daycare door, I had to put him down so I could get my member card out of my pocket. He whined and wanted me to pick him up. (This is partly my faulty because I always carry him in instead of let him walk in himself. I need to get in and out quickly to get to work. Sometimes I have to run with him in my lap and he loves it.)

The security lady who Dao greets every morning, said to him, “I know the drill. You want daddy to carry you all the way to class, right?” Dao nodded and replied, “Right.” Me and the security lady both laughed our head off.

Since we were a bit late this morning, Dao’s class had already gone to the romper room. He stood outside the door and didn’t want to come in after I took off his jacket and his shoes. Eden, the cute girl in his class, came to the door and put out her arms. Dao ran right in and gave her a hug. It was so cute.

We didn’t do much this weekend. No traveling and no visiting the museum. On Saturday we spent some time at the mall. Although the indoor playground was packed, Dao managed to run around, laughing, sliding and were having a good time. That was actually the first time I saw him enjoyed the playground. The funny thing was that as he was running, he would put out his arms to protect himself if he saw kids running toward him.

We bought him an alphabet train puzzle. Each piece of the puzzle is placed together in alphabetical order with each animal, except for letter “u.” Is there an animal that begins with letter “u?” The puzzle uses umbrella instead. Dao has already know quite a bit of the animals and he could recognize their features even though he doesn’t get the name right. For instance, when I showed him the picture of the fox, he said cat. When I showed him the picture of the vulture, he said “chim” (bird in Vietnamese). When I showed in a picture of a frog, he said “ech” (he only knows Vietnamese name for frog). When I showed him picture of the gorilla, he said “Bac Ky” who is my sister-in-law’s husband. Yes, I was puzzled myself on that one too.

Sunday afternoon at 2:30, we went to Eden’s birthday party. Eden is one of Dao’s classmates at the daycare. Eden’s parents booked an hour and a half at The Little Gym, which located on the second floor with a beautiful view of Fairfax Corner. I picked up one of the club flyers and the price for a birthday bash is $300 for up to 15 kids.) Before we went, we tried to give him a nap, but he only slept for half an hour. By the time we headed to the party, Dao was already acting up. While other kids did all kind of activities, Dao played basketball with his buddy Aidan. At school, Aidan and Dao are best buddy. The teachers said they do everything together even sharing their food. At the party we could see why. Just the two of them shooting hoop while the rest enjoyed jumping up and down the inflatable bed. While the rest sat in the room enjoyed pizza and cake, the two of them running up and down the hallway. Brit who is also one of Dao’s buddy joined the two boys.

Dao made some hilarious comments this weekend. When he sneezed, he said “bless you Dao.” When I carried him on my arms, he said “Dao nang” (heavy), but refused to walk when I put him down. Whenever I asked him to do something for me, like getting a towel or throwing clothes in the washing machine, he would complimented himself, “Dao gioi” (good).”