Succulent Basket

I recently visited the home of Diana, my girls' vocal instructor.  Normally, my sister Peni would sit through the girls' lessons every weekend, and I would only stop by afterwards in order to ferry the kids to other destinations. Lately, there have been periods of time when I averaged four to five hours on the road daily, since none of my kids were driving themselves yet and they all had their own circles of friends with different activities and hang-out locations.  Some days I felt more like a chauffer than a mom!

Diana bought her spacious rambler in a nice and quiet Santa Ana neighborhood a few months ago at the bottom of the market downturn in Southern California.  Homeowners were short selling left and right and it seemed like the inventory of distressed sales would never cease to grow.  She had been watching this house like a hawk from the time it hovered around the low $700's to when it plummeted to just under $300,000.  Diana made her move in the nick of time and secured a sweet deal for herself.  The prized one-story had its own long driveway (important since Diana had lots of students and visitors), and even a mother-in-law unit in the backyard which she counted on renting out to a friend to help with the mortgage.  But her home purchase was not without its own drawbacks... the property was a century-old fixer-upper that required a lot of sweat equity to bring it to life.  Fortunately, Diana had many handy friends ready to lend their remodeling advice or contractor's expertise.  One of her students even gave Diana leftover hardwood from her own home improvement project, so Diana's master bedroom and hallway were finished with a beautiful wood floor.

I was elated to see Diana settle into her new home.  She is a talented and hardworking woman who has always juggled three jobs to create the life she wanted... working "normal" hours at an office, giving private voice lessons from her home, plus performing at weddings, church functions and other local venues when she could book a gig.  It was a real victory for Diana to be able to make the purchase on her own especially because she's recently gone through a difficult divorce and as everyone knows, buying a house as a self-employed single woman in pricey Orange County is not an easy feat.  It got me thinking about how things have gone topsy-turvy with the real-estate market.  Five years ago, my brother and his wife bought a beautiful new house in Temecula for around $500,000.  Now they'd be lucky if they could sell it for $300K.  I recently visited his family in Temecula and was struck  by my confirmed memory of how beautiful his home was... in many ways nicer than mine... with quality upgrades and tasteful appointments, for less than the price of Diana's fixer-upper, which ended up costing much more because she had to spend big bucks to remodel it!  Nevertheless, location is what tags the price for real estate.  I'm sure many people living in the desert counties have sometimes had the passing thought of transplanting their houses onto Orange County parcels if they could!

But back to Diana... she was so busy with work and interior remodeling that she had no time to patch up her existing landscape.  Much of the greenery in her front yard was withering away in the summer heat.  I offered, and she allowed me, to repot her plants.  One tree in particular has outgrown its container and was badly in need of a new home.  I wondered how it managed to survive seeing how coarse and dry the old soil was when I took the tree out of its planter.  Diana's sole plant stand on the porch looked forlorn with a dead specimen on it.  I thought about a suitable accent for that particular spot and came to the conclusion that a succulent basket would be the ideal choice.  Diana could only provide minimal care, so I needed to pick a low-maintenance and water-conserving plant variety.  Succulents seemed perfect.  They're not the kind of plants for which you need a care and feeding manual.  The link below speaks well of their hardiness:

http://www.cactuscollection.com/articles/succulents02.html

I first began my search for a sturdy hanging basket at my local garden centers – Lowe's, The Home Depot, and Armstrong.  Surprise!  The nicest looking basket, at the lowest price, was found at T.J. Maxx, for only $7.99.

I had the most fun picking out the succulents that would go in my basket:

Echeveria 'Curlylocks'
(This is a showy specimen for its size, so I decided to make it the centerpiece)

Same for this one... destined for a second basket to avoid competition

Smaller cuttings are for accent only.  They will be spaced around the basket's perimeter.

Crassula Perfoliata

One perfect rosette!

What's the name of this baby??

Even though these "candy canes" are tiny plants, they've already produced prolific blooms in vivid hues...

Kalanchoe blossfeldiana... 'The Candy Canes' ...

In pink...

Or red...

On Sunday, my cousin took me to the Orange County Swap Meet to check out more succulents.  They sell there for about half the price at my local garden centers... a dollar for the smallest pots and two fifty to three dollars for the medium-sized ones.  I couldn't resist adding a few more varieties to my stock.  It wouldn't cost me much to make a second succulent basket for myself!

I filled my coir basket with Miracle-Gro cactus mix.  Supposedly this type of soil is fast draining and therefore suited for growing succulents.

Next, I made holes in the soil to accommodate the little plants, taking care to space them around the basket for contrast of foliage and colors. Succulents are not privacy-minded – they do well in cramped quarters and don't mind having lots of neighbors, but I still didn't want to pack them close in the beginning, because I expected them to multiply.

I gave my basket a good mist of cool water.  Once established, succulents cope well during long periods of drought.  But these guys were just planted and I wanted them to feel nourished and at home in my basket!

My finished succulent basket, top view

Side view

To provide contrast for the low-growing succulents, I decided to feature a climbing vine in my next basket.  The Black-Eyed Susan (Thunbergia) won me over with its tiny price tag ($5.97 at Lowe's) and abundant blooms for its small container.  The plant tag said this was an ideal vine for planting around mailboxes, fences, posts, latticeworks, and trellises, which made me feel confident because it sounded like it might be a versatile climber.  This vine likes full-sun exposure, so I won't have to worry about its suitability for my backyard, which takes in all of the afternoon sun.  Together with the T.J. Maxx basket ($7.99) plus soil, I spent under $20 to make this hanging basket, which took only 5 minutes of preparation.

Thunbergia Basket

Close-up of Black-Eyed Susan blossoms

This is how the finished baskets looked on my plant stand.  The two on the ground will be given to Diana when my girls see her next for their lessons.

There's something about greenery in coir baskets that can make any previously barren patio corner look lush and romantic!

Hopefully my succulent basket will make it through the summer at Diana's!

Mom's Little Sloth

When I decided to write an illustrated narrative for each of my children in my blog, I knew that Andrea’s would come last.  If it were up to her, she’d rather avoid any mention at all.  She's so averse to being in the spotlight!  But she has no choice in this, so here goes... 

As characteristic of most middle children, Andrea was my fuss-free baby from the day she was born. She came into the world a week later than we expected, underweight and fragile-looking (Andrea weighed less than 5 ½ lbs at birth). Despite being full-term baby, she looked like a premie.  I could see her tailbone sticking out when I changed her diapers. It made me almost afraid to touch her. But Andrea was much hardier than she appeared and seldom got sick.  She was a night owl even then, cooing and babbling away in her bassinet next to my bedside during the wee hours, making me wonder whether I should just get up and feed her.  During the day, she mostly kept to herself, if that could be said of a baby! At the time, her older sister, Audrey, was a full-on precocious, talkative, and attention-seeking toddler. Andrea, well… she was just happy being Audrey’s Little Sis! It didn’t bother her to witness Audrey taking up all the air in the room when they were together. But the girls definitely ganged up on their baby brother anytime they could.

Poor Kiet being spooked by his psychotic sisters

Andrea in a redeeming pose with Kiet

Audrey and Andrea at fifteen and thirteen, respectively

Despite appearances to the contrary, Andrea has a mentoring relationship with Kiet and a special connection with her younger male cousins, who adore her. She naturally relates to them the same way guys relate to one another. When together, they would play video games, watch action movies, and rough-house unabashedly.

Andrea tackling a cousin at our annual family picnic on the beach

Masked bandits

Relaxing on Dad's couch with Kiet in the background

Unlike her sisters, Andrea abhors fashion and make-up. Audrey and Lauren would dress up for school with the same care a model reserves for selecting her runway outfits. Andrea wears the same non-logo T-shirts (in black, gray, or dark blue), paired with generic skinny jeans, season after season. It’s beyond frustrating trying to convince her to shop for clothes.

Andrea’s everyday look

Getting ready for her middle-school graduation dance… one of the rare occasions where I could make her put on a dress!

 

Little Miss Graduate

My pet name for Andrea is “Mom’s Little Sloth.” It was inspired by her appearing slow and deliberate in her movements and seemingly unenthusiastic and nonchalant about the hubbub that is our family's normal schedule.  But don’t be fooled… Andrea is actually an intense observer who doesn’t miss a single thing. She is keenly focused without appearing to be so.

In a bemused mood (as expressive as she’d ever be!)

None of my kids is naturally studious, but Andrea has the most lax study habits out of all of them. I had to constantly remind her to complete her school projects and homework all the way up until the sixth grade. But once she was on her own, Andrea got steady on her feet very quickly. That was true of everything she did. She had one grade shy of straight A’s every quarter for the entire duration of middle school (her single B+ at the end of the eighth grade resulted from her opting to take an especially challenging elective, Science Olympiad, instead of a regular science class).

In high school, Andrea applied for, and got accepted, to a special program that allowed her to complete two years of college credits concurrently with her high school requirements. In the middle of this, she still found time to volunteer with Big Brothers Big Sisters two afternoons a week.

Andrea at a Beckman award ceremony

Andrea is typically modest about her accomplishments. When she disclosed the fact that her PSAT score was higher than Audrey’s, she prefaced the news with, “Now Mom, don’t get all excited about it…”

She's similarly understated about her needs and wants. I’ve learned that when Andrea asked for something, she had most likely contemplated the request in her mind for a long time. But she would phrase her request in the most casual and non-demanding manner. If you didn’t listen carefully, you would not have known it’s something she really wanted.

When we bought our current home one and a half years ago, I promised my children they would get to choose their own bedroom furnishings. Andrea placed her special order for a loft bed sitting atop a computer work station – a simple stained wood design from the Pottery Barn Teen catalog that looked like it belonged in a teenage boy’s room. She patiently waited three months for it to arrive.

Soon afterwards, she erected a door sign outside her fortress: “Do Not Disturb! Bi is watching a movie on the computer.” (Bi is Andrea’s nickname).

And that’s what she does everyday after school.  I can only lure Andrea out of her bat cave for dinner, or for her favorite snack... banh dau xanh (mung bean cakes) accompanied by jasmine tea.

I like to embarrass Andrea by reminding her about her clinginess a few summers ago, when she was entirely dependent on me and refused to let me leave her side for even a minute.  But that's the subject of another post!

 

For now, Andrea just tries to maintain her privacy and sense of humor intact as best she could with a mom who likes to overshare. :)

  

Sweetpea

In my post dated June 7th, 2010, I told the story of the bunny that lived in my sideyard.  I hadn't seen him again until yesterday, when I called Kiet down from his upstairs study to capture my non-paying tenant on camera...

He didn't scamper like I'd feared, but settled down on my lawn and munched away...

We observed him quietly until Kiet came too close for another shot, at which point the bunny hopped away and took cover under our neighbor's sweet pea bush.  Can you spot him?

 Looking out coyly once safe

We will name him Sweetpea!

My Wonderboy

Today marks my son's graduation from middle school.  We've shopped together for a pair of dress shoes last week and Kiet purchased his own camera online in anticipation of the occasion.  We're ready to go, or so I thought.  With four children still at home, my kids' milestones are celebrated with less and less fanfare every year that goes by, as our shared experiences have prepared us for a repeat performance of just about any school event.  Kiet also happens to be a very non-demanding child, so everything that involves him carries a tag that says "No big deal!"  Nevertheless, I was looking forward to taking photos of my boy in his first nice suit.

As customary, the kids had dinner with their dad on the weekend, and after they returned home last night, I saw Kiet in the downstairs bathroom tending to himself with a bloody scratch running almost the entire length of his face.  As it turned out, he'd fought with his younger sister in the car on the way home and it was more than just simple push and shove.  These two got into each other's face constantly, and Lauren would fight back twice as hard if provoked.  Kiet knew he would have to show up at his graduation ceremony with a very visible scar and asked me if I could get a good concealer for him.  Just when you thought the last of your children was almost trouble-free and you'd soon reach the point where you could stop watching over them like a hawk, invariably something would happen to remind you there's still a lot of kid left in them, and maybe it wasn't time to relax yet!

Kiet playing paramedic to a seasick Lauren in happier times

A tender moment (rare with these two)

Picture perfect... but not really!

Kiet was born unusually hefty for a Vietnamese child (8 lbs 3 oz), with a shock of black hair forming a halo around his head that  made him look like a cross between Max and one of his forest creatures in Maurice Sendak's classic picture book, Where the Wild Things Are.  We used to joke that in his less winsome moments, Kiet could pass for a baby Don King. 

                           Where the Wild Things Are stock images

I vaguely remembered my delivering doctor and nurses huddling at the end of my hospital bed conferring in hush tones, but the significance of their collective heads-up that a pediatrician would soon come by to discuss my child's "condition" somehow escaped me with all the commotion and brain drain that accompanied a difficult labor.  It wasn't until I had a chance to speak directly with Kiet's pediatrician in his office during a follow-up visit that it dawned on me my child might need much more medical intervention than I'd expected.

We were soon referred to a pediatric orthopedist.  Dr. Weinert confirmed in our first consultation with him that Kiet had a congenital deformity involving his left foot.  The condition is called "club foot", and it made his foot turn inward and to the side, where it might appear that the top of the foot is where the bottom should be.  If left untreated, a permanent and severe functional disability would result by the time Kiet became a teenager.

I learned that my boy might end up needing corrective surgery.  "For now," the doctor said, "we'd try the Ponseti Method.  It involves manipulation of the foot by stretching the tendons and repeatedly applying casts in order to gradually move the deformed foot into the correct  position."  If that did the job, it would be followed by Kiet's wearing a foot abduction brace to maintain the correction, and orthopedic shoes when he started walking.

It sounded pretty hopeful.  I asked him how long he thought casting might be needed.  Dr. Weinert said we would probably be able to tell in three months or so.

Three months turned into six months... nine months... then a year.  By that time, I was told we'd need to prepare Kiet for surgery.

During the first year of his life, due to the disproportionate weight of the cast on his left calf as compared to his body weight, Kiet was pretty much immobilized on that side from the waist down.  He never learned to crawl freely like other babies, and even rolling over or onto his side took a huge effort.  The little guy pretty much lay on his back all the times unless I was holding him or sitting him up in a high chair.  A patch of baldness formed on the back of his head, even though he had a healthy lion's mane otherwise.  As an infant, his activities consisted of half-sitting, half-reclining in his baby sling chair, watching the world go by.

I remembered the first time we went to Dr. Weinert's office to remove Kiet's original cast.  We had to do serial casting every week in the beginning, and every few weeks thereafter.  Putting on the cast was only time-consuming, but cutting it off was a real trauma.  It freaked Kiet out, and me even more!  He wailed miserably during the procedure, and I cried along with him the whole time.  The doctor and his assistant probably never saw a more cowardly mom.  They patiently explained there was no way Kiet could be hurt by the cast's removal, but it was difficult for me to believe seeing how his tiny newborn limb had to hold up to the scary contraption they used to cut away the cast.  The noise of the machine's whirling blade, the plaster dust, and our collective crying made it a very stressful event.  It took me some time to get over seeing Kiet's calf looking pasty and shriveled inside the gauze that provided lining for the cast.  

Once we got used to the frequency of Kiet's doctor's visits, the serial casting became less of an ordeal, but with three young children in the family, tending to the numerous appointments and chores that surrounded Kiet's medical condition made me a very frazzled mom.  If he peed on his cast (which was often) and wet it, we would have to replace the cast earlier than scheduled.  It was next to impossible to give Kiet his daily baths and not get his cast wet, as its dead weight would readily plop down into the bath water as I washed the rest of his body.  I finally figured out a way to protect the cast, which was to encase it in a fluffy face towel to absorb any errant moisture with big rubber bands around it to hold the towel in place, then waterproof the whole thing with a silicone surgical glove that stretched tightly over the towel.  This worked perfectly until Kiet's calf outgrew the size of the stretched glove.

I was anxious for the Ponseti Method to work, since we had invested a whole year's worth of expectations in this treatment, and very disappointed it didn't.  Kiet's operation became the first in our family.  We were told that this type of surgery was a nearly "bloodless" procedure, and Kiet wouldn't need any transfusions.  It involved moving the tendon from the first ray (toe) to the third ray in order to release the inward traction on his foot.

We were instructed to check into CHOC (Children's Hospital of Orange County) in the early morning the day of surgery.   I remember Dr. Weinert's scheduler telling me the younger the pediatric patient, the earlier their time slot given to them, as patients are supposed to fast before surgery and babies can't tolerate fasting as well as older children.  I made sure to give Kiet a healthy feeding at midnight the night before, and nothing after he woke up.  Kiet hadn't given up bottle feeding at the time, and while waiting for Dr. Weinert, he got terribly hungry and cranky.  He wanted his baby bottle so bad, and I felt powerless to give him anything by mouth, not even water!  I tried my best to comfort him by holding and rocking him on my feet until he was taken away.

I wandered the hospital hallway crying the whole time Kiet was in surgery.  We were in the pediatric ward, with serious cases all around, and some people must have thought I had a child with an incurable or life-threatening illness.  I felt guilty and ridiculous after seeing a young cancer patient chatting calmly with his parents with what looked like an IV dripping chemo into his veins, and retreated to the visitors' lounge where everyone was waiting for their loved ones to come out of surgery.

The wait seemed endless, but it must not have been more than two hours before I was updated by Dr. Weinert on Kiet's condition.  He was already taken out of the operating room into what they called "the wake-up room", where I was allowed a visit.  Kiet looked terrified and forlorn in the hospital's cold metal crib.  His face was swollen with the IV fluid that was retained in his body and his lips were chapped and bloody after intubation.  He opened his eyes, saw me, and immediately bawled.  I wanted to lift him out of the crib immediately and hold him, but was afraid I would hurt him.

Kiet was released from the hospital the next day with pain medications.  The first night at home, he went into colic mode for a straight 12 hours.  He was hoarse from crying, and my mom and I took turns standing on our feet rocking him until our backs gave out and our arms went numb.  Kiet's wails were so anguished, they made me wonder if the trauma of surgery was something that would stay permanently etched in his memory and affect him when he grew up.

I thought that recovering from surgery was the final stepping stone on Kiet's road to health, but was disappointed to find out his leg would need to remain in a cast for a while longer until his doctor was satisfied that surgery had proved to be successful. The day we removed Kiet's final cast was both a joyous celebration and a huge relief.  I felt like a dead weight had been lifted from both of us!

Although Kiet's calf muscles had atrophied being under a cast for so long which made his left leg look markedly thinner and fragile-looking compared to the right, he did not need to wear a foot brace or orthopedic shoes, nor did he require any follow-up physical therapy.  His long treatment was finally over!

Kiet grew up a healthy boy.  But the memory of his childhood disability was something that changed my motherhood forever.  Having a child with a medical condition made me a more compassionate person and a more caring mom.  I realized what a miracle and a blessing it was to have a "normal" child, and never took that understanding for granted again.

Kiet's favorite children's book, which he liked me to read aloud to him over and over, was Robert Munsch's Love You Forever, in which the following passage was found:

A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked  him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.  And while she held him, she sang:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

The baby grew.  He grew and he grew and he grew.  He grew until he was two years old, and he ran all around the house.  He pulled all the books off the shelves.  He pulled all the food out of the refrigerator and he took his mother's watch and flushed it down the toilet.  Sometimes his mother would say, "This kid is driving me CRAZY!"

But at night time, when that two-year-old was quiet, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.  While she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

...................

And the boy grew...

And grew...

Kiet in a suit at his fifth-grade graduation ceremony

Proud moment with Mom

And grew...

I'm a cool cat!

Happy Graduation, Kiet!

LOVE YOU FOREVER!

Mom

June 14, 2010

Little Miss Demanding

Lauren, my youngest, turned 12 in January of this year. Like me, she was born in the Year of the Water Buffalo. According to the superstitions of my culture, people born under this sign would likely struggle to make a living, just like the water buffalo, a beast of burden destined for a life of labor in the rice paddies. To head off trouble just in case, I gave Lauren an ameliorating Vietnamese name -- Thao Nguyen -- which means "grass meadow" in English. Hopefully, she would be self-supporting and never lacks for sustenance! :)

Lauren has an even stranger Vietnamese nickname, "Bau", which translates into English as "baby bump." She was the fourth child in our family and while her parents were undecided about what her nickname  should be, her impatient siblings were not.  They took to calling their little sister, "Mom's pregnant belly."  That name has stuck!

Lauren was an extraordinarily good-natured baby who pretty much took care of herself if you let her. Instead of crying to get attention like other infants, she would endlessly babble in her crib to comfort and amuse herself. By chance a visitor to my home was amazed to hear all that was going on transmitted by the baby monitor from Lauren's nursery. She just could not believe it!

Lauren, sweet and docile up until age 5

Once Lauren learned she could assert herself to maintain her ranking in the brood, she quickly earned the title of "Little Miss Demanding". When she doesn't get her way, Lauren is prone to giving me what I call "The Tasmanian Devil look".

Grouchy Smurfette returning from a Christmas ski trip with Dad

Softening up as she hugged Mama

Very much a girly girl like her oldest sister, Audrey, Lauren loves to style herself and is quite talented with make-up and putting together different outfits. I would often find sketches for her look-of-the-day taped to her wardrobe door.

First Day of School Outfit

Second Day of School Outfit

Lauren channeling Mary Kate & Ashley Olsen's boho look
Slouchy sweater, check!  Oversized tote, check!  Gigantic sunglasses, check!

Wearing a borrowed kimono for our family fashion show

Following in Audrey's footsteps, Lauren ran for student council at her elementary school and got elected class president in the fifth grade. She was also voted "Duchess" shortly after she entered Pioneer Middle School this year. I know... I also thought "What the heck!" when I first heard that title, too! It simply meant she was chosen by her freshman class as their equivalent of "Princess" for the older sophomore class, or "Queen" for the senior class.

The "Duchess" in her room

There's a four-year age gap between Lauren and her older sister, Andrea, who happens to be a total tomboy, so the closest Lauren has in form of a soul sister is her cousin, Natasha. These two are tight!

On land...

Or in the water

Out of my four children, Lauren is the one with the biggest drive. She is self-directed, organized, and ambitious in a way that belies her years.  You'd think I raised her on adrenaline instead of breast milk.

Hanging tough on the playground at Ladera Elementary

Creating cool concoctions at Sur La Table

Picking up a routine with Justice, her ballroom dancing instructor

Or just looking cool as the neighborhood Sk8tergirl...

Lauren is our family's Energizer bunny!  She just never stops!