Brain Puking Blog Post

Sorry for the long silence. I'm not sure why I haven't been writing. Probably because I am still tired. The kids have been sleeping better though we still get the occasional early morning cry from Sam. I've taught Joey how to tell time so she knows to not come into our room before 7am. Elysha continues to sleep blissfully until she gets woken up. I don't know what it is but I am exhausted.

I've decided to keep the kids home with me for five weeks. If I put the kids in school all summer, it would cost over $6000 for two months. So it makes fiscal sense to have them home with me. I think I can handle it (I think I can, I think I can). I have already devised a daily morning and afternoon schedule for those five weeks in order to keep myself from freaking out. It consists of hikes, beach trips, museum trips, library trips, as well as cooking classes from Chef Mommy and Korean classes from Uhmma (just the alphabet and basic words would be awesome). If the kids and I come out of July alive but absolutely nothing accomplished, I will still consider it a success. If you hear a sudden burst of song August 2nd in the morning, it will be me singing hallelujah, the kids are all in school!

Another part of my fatigue is probably all the playdates I have been hosting. I still feel like Joey has yet to really find her groove with her friends at school. I am getting the sense that the person Joey likes the most in her class doesn't feel the same way about her. So I am trying to help Joey build stronger connections with other classmates but that means hosting two to three playdates a week. Of course, if I host one playdate for Joey, then I feel obliged to do the same for Elysha. It's such a foreign concept to me that I have to work this hard for my kids to have friends. Growing up, all of the families in our little cul-de-sac had kids around the same age. After school, we would all hang out on our street and play kick ball or ride bikes. Or I would just go over to my best friend's house who lived a couple doors down from me. There was no organization for playdates. Everyday was a playdate.

I'm sure I had homework in elementary school but I don't remember ever doing any. But everyday there is the stress of getting Joey's homework done and then practicing piano and hopefully reading a little bit. All this while trying to not completely ignore Elysha and Sam, as well as do the dishes from the day and then cook a dinner that would make Jamie Oliver proud. I think I just feel worn down from the daily routine. Not to mention Chang's upcoming birthday, and converting our office to a guest room, and an impending visit from my sister in law, and errands for my mom, and dealing with my dad.

I hope I don't sound depressed because I am not...though after writing all this I think I should be! As much as my life drives me insane, I know that I am still blessed. I have a good life and my complaints are trivial in the grand scheme of things. But I am still counting down the days until August 2! I will finally get a break and (gasp!) be on my own for the first time in almost seven years. I can't even wrap my head around the idea of it but I am sure I will get used to it really quick!

A Christmas Miracle

There is stuff going on right now with my family which I'm not sure how to process. Nothing to do with Chang or the kids so no worries there. I probably will never go into detail because it is something that I've never dealt with properly on an emotional, mental, spiritual level. I was so young when it all began, and now, over 20 years later, there has been a drastic turn of events.

As I was praying tonight, I recalled desperate prayers I prayed as a teenager. The only way I could cope back then was to cry out to God when no one else could hear my anguish. As time passed, I lost hope and more recently, I became bitter. But I'm experiencing something of a Christmas miracle. It may be premature but hope is returning and I feel like God is reminding me that He heard me way back then, and He never forgot.

Bye-bye Flashy Car, Hello Minivan

I got in a car accident last week. The kids and I are fine but my car is not. It has been deemed a total loss. So I am looking into minivans. Boo...

I got my car through my now defunct Arbonne business. It was too hard to keep up my business after all my troubles while pregnant with Sam. Even though I shut down my operations, we decided to keep the car. I always felt a little sheepish in my car, except when in Beverly Hills or Brentwood. But for the most part, if people asked me what I drove (like when they're trying to identify me when I'm dropping something off), I would look down, shuffle one foot around and whisper, "a Mercedes."

But now, the thought of driving a minivan kind of makes me nauseous. I feel like I am succumbing to a necessary evil. The funny thing is Chang and I were talking about selling his car and having HIM drive the minivan. But now, the curse is upon me.

I was really shaken up by the accident. I've never been in one. I kept going through it in my head, wondering what I could have done differently. "If only, I didn't stop for coffee that day." Or, "I should have turned at a different intersection." I was mostly disturbed by worst case scenario thoughts. "What if I was going a little faster and the car had hit us where Sam was sitting?" Or "what if a mack truck had hit us?" Then, my wonderfully (and sometimes annoying) glass-is-always-half-full husband said, "I like to think that God put everything in place that allowed all of you to walk away unhurt."

So today, as I was driving through the intersection where I was hit, I felt this overwhelming sense of gratitude. Thank God that even though it was a pretty terrible accident, the children and I were completely unharmed. It really could have been so much worse. But it wasn't. In any case, I am grateful. I have another day with my beautiful and bizarre children.

Mini Chang

Chang took Sam to get a haircut. He swears he didn't ask for it, but the woman gave him the EXACT same haircut. I don't like it. It makes Sam look older and that makes me sad.

It was an emotional weekend for me, reasons that I have never been good talking about. Times like these helps me to realize how blessed I am: I have the most amazing husband and three adorable children who embody unconditional love. The great thing about kids is that they are always willing to give you hugs and kisses and make you feel like you are the best thing that ever graced the face of this earth.

I also had a couple interesting conversations with Joey this weekend. I told Joey that I am excited and sad about her starting kindergarten. She asked me why I was sad. I told her because after she is all done with school, when she is 18 years old, she can go anywhere she wants to go for college. I told her that I went far away to Boston for school. She thought about it and said that she wanted to stay close to home. "Promise?" I asked her. "I promise," she assured me. I know I talk big about downsizing to a one bed room cottage on the beach after Sam goes to college so that they can NEVER move back in with us. But I have a feeling there will always be room at the inn.

Also, Joey told me that one of her friend's older brother told her friend that there is no God. I asked Joey what she thought. She said that she believed God was real. I told her I believe so too. Then I told her that she has to hold onto her belief no matter what other people say. It is so cool how at this age, her faith seems so unshakable.

We are getting ready for Elysha's birthday. We're having a very small party at our house again and invited Silvermist to join in on the festivities. I try to not talk about her party with her because I don't want her to talk about it at school. I've been preoccupied with other stuff so I don't have my normal spreadsheets (well, I still have one but with less details and tables than I normally have). Hopefully it will also still go well.

The Artist Formerly Known as... (part deux)

Yesterday, I was organizing the living room and moving around the photo albums, and I came upon something Chang made for me. It was a scrapbook Chang made for our fourth anniversary with some of the memorabilia of our relationship--greeting cards, ticket stubs, photos. It was very sweet and must have taken a lot of effort. Additionally, he printed out the emails that we sent to each other even before our relationship started.

While organizing, I started reading some of the emails and couldn't help but be amused. It was interesting to see how careful we were with our words, trying to not expose or belie our nascent emotions. We are sooo beyond that point now. I know some people miss that "honeymoon" stage, but I don't. I enjoy where Chang and I are now. It's like our physical bodies--it's matured, it's older, there might be some unexpected aches and pains, and some fat that can be trimmed. But behind the faded glory of our bodies is wisdom, understanding, depth, and purity that has been refined by fire.

Anyhow, I completely forgot that I actually wrote a couple poems for Chang. I have to say I am impressed with myself. I don't think I will ever be able to write like that again. I'm fairly certain that the poetic part of my brain was anesthetized with child rearing, and I'm not so sure I can ever recover it again.

I thought I would share something that I wrote, so that it will be preserved in cyber eternity, for prosperity's sake.

Written around May 2001, at the very beginning of our relationship.

For so long now,
I looked into the iridescent pools of other's souls,
seeking to find my own translucent reflection.
I cried out to the hollow population
hoping to hear an echo of my own desperation
somewhere from a distance.

But only perhaps.

And then you arrived, love,
Lifting the heaviness of my emptiness,
Filling me with fullness that I bear
as a mother carries her slumbering child,
his cheek pressed peacefully into her flesh.

With one gesture, you motioned me into your nakedness.
I turned away in fear
for I have never known such radiance.
Passion, I thought, must be incendiary.
But I hold your fire (evocative embers)
with both hands
without whispers
and with all my life.

Green Eggs and Ham and other Milestones

I just wanted to remember this stuff...

My friend was talking about doing a mother/daughter book club and I thought that only real book that Joey could possibly read is Green Eggs and Ham. So that evening I told Joey that I thought she could read it by herself. At first, she gawked at the idea. "It's too long!" But then she got excited thinking about the challenge and said enthusiastically, "Okay!"

She ran to get the book and began to read. I had to help her with a decent number of words but she did it! I was surprised that she sat there and persisted through the whole book in one sitting.
I am really proud of her and I'm sure it won't be long before she is reading Twilight.

Elysha brought home her first set of letters (red letters) that she phonetically mastered a couple of weeks ago. When it crosses my mind, I go through the letters of the next set (blue letters) because it would be nice if by the end of her first year of preschool, she knows the sounds of all the letters. I feel that since Joey is self-motivated, I don't need to worry about her as much with school work. Elysha, on the other hand, needs more attention. I am slowly realizing that I need to give it to her. I don't think it is a matter of mastery. I think it is a matter of helping her realize that she is as capable and competent as her sister. I hope this won't be the theme for the rest of their lives. Because they are so close in age, I think that Elysha thinks that there is no difference between her and Joey. So when she sees Joey excelling at something, Elysha believes that she should be able to do it to at the same level of aptitude. When she can't, she gives up.

Sam is starting to speak a little more. He says hi and bye while waving, he says nigh-nigh for bedtime and of course uhmma (mommy in Korean). He does the few sign language words that I've taught him though with milk, he just refuses. He finds it more effective to grunt and point wildly until I give him what he wants. He also appears to be saying, "what's that?" and "all done." The one word that he has definitely mastered is "uh-oh." His comprehension, on the other hand, is really good. If I tell him we are going outside, he will run to the door and grab his shoes. If I tell him to sit down so I can change his diaper, he will find a book to peruse and then plop his big bootie on the changing pad. And when I tell him that I'm going to turn on the TV, he gets all giddy with excitement, runs over to the TV and starts giggling.

Time is just flying by and because I am a planner, I am looking forward to sending Sam off to school so I can get on with my plans for myself. However, I feel like Sam is getting so big so fast, and all he has done for his first year of life is watch me run errands or organize the house or work on the computer. I have made a mental commitment to do something fun for him every morning. I have made a mental commitment to work with Elysha more on her work. I have made a mental commitment to challenge Joey more. I keep thinking it is just one day...I can work/play with the kids another day. But I don't want to keep putting them off.

So Sam and I danced together today.

Seeing the World through Her Eyes

The other day we went on a family bike ride. Chang had Sam in the front on the Bobike (picture of Bobike on right, not Sam and Chang, btw), Joey on her princess bike with training wheels, Elysha on the Kettler, and me on my mountain bike, my first extravagent purchase after I started working 13 years ago. We biked around our neighborhood, careful to avoid any major inclines. Sam would start fussing whenever Chang stopped to let us catch up to him, Joey was flying on her bike as she is itching to get her training wheels removed, and I followed behind Elysha. Let's just say the train before the caboose kept getting derailed by the sights and sounds of our neighborhood. I had to keep putting my foot down to keep from falling off my bike, due to lack of momentum. But it was so adorable.

"Ooo, look at that pretty flower."

"Mommy, do you see the thorns on that flower? Ooo...."

"Oooo, I hear a doggy in that house."

"Oooo, a kitty cat sleeping over there."

She was looking every which way but forward so she kept going off the sidewalk. Then she would worry that I wasn't following her so she would stop and look back at me. "Keep going Elysha." "Okay, mommy. Ooo, look, there's ants on the sidewalk."

While I am just watching out to make sure we don't run over dog poop, she is seeing all the wonders that LA has to offer, from two feet off the ground. Somewhere along the way, we grow up, we grow cold, embittered, cynical. We forget to "Oooo" over the little things in life. I am grateful to my kids who remind me to never lose that sense of awe (like Elysha on our bike ride). To feel good about little accomplishments achieved (Sam likes to get a rounding applause everytime he successfully manipulates a toy or stands up and dances). And to dance like there is nobody watching (Joey loves to shake her hips to music).

Our Immigrant-like Day in the Snow

We drove out to Mt Baldy to play in the snow. Originally, I figured the girls can ghetto it up by wearing jeans with leggings underneath, a rain jacket with a sweatshirt and sneakers...you know, just like their mama did during those church winter retreats in which we would actually encounter patches of snow. I didn't own any real snow gear until I started skiing in sixth grade.

Anyhow Chang went to REI earlier in the month and got the kids (including Sam) snow jackets. At first, I scoffed at the idea but REI is having a really good sale! He got Joey a size 8 which is way too big so I went back to exchange the jacket and got suckered into buying the kids (including Sam) snow pants.

We had a blast on the little patches of snow that we found on the side of the road with the other families who didn't want to pay the $8 per person to get into the tubing park. The kids didn't need a lot of snow to actually enjoy it. What made Chang and I snicker is the fact that there were a ton of ethnic people at the make-shift free snow park. It reminded me of my childhood.

I want to rent a winnebago every summer and drive around the US to different landmarks. It may sound cheap but it is still four star compared to the one family vacation I had as a kid. My dad converted an econoline van into a motel with a couple plywood planks, some sleeping bags and a propane portable stove. I have no idea where we bathed those few weeks we were on the road, but we got to see the Grand Canyon, Mt Rushmore, Old Faithful and some ginormous statue of Paul Bunyan in some state. Am I weird that I really want to fight the "Jefferson's" mentality of movin' on up? As I wrote before, the kids need to "slum" it up more...get some ethnic upbringing into their memories to balance out the good life that they are living.

New Year 2009

Like everyone else, I am mentally making resolutions for the year. During service at church today, I really feel like I need to make some changes. As I have mentioned in previous blogs, 2008 was a year of rest. Even though it was still frenetic and filled with the unexpected, I tried to take it easy...as easy as one can take it with three kids, three "jobs" and a million other things to juggle. But I didn't make efforts to take Sam to classes, socialize with friends (aside from my much needed monthly PTA meeting aka parents turning to alcohol), or exercise. Even though I think my hips have gone back to normal, my waist has not. I write this complaint next to three pounds of See's chocolates that I confiscated from my mom since she needs to stay away from this stuff. Cancer cells thrive on sugar and fat...but so does cellulite...

Though I still have every intention of eating those three pounds of chocolate, I vow to make an effort to not let it settle on my ever-growing pooch.

I also vow to read the Bible more. I have been avoiding it because I just didn't feel mentally ready to read anything meatier than a Pottery Barn catalog. But I am ready and it felt good to read it today and actually be able to process the words. I can hear squeaking in my brain as the cogs rotate again.

I vow to take my husband out on a date night each month--even if it means we need to pay for a babysitter.

I vow to yell less at the girls. I have been thinking about the next five years and it makes me sad. I know that it is going to be 2012 before I realize it and my little girls won't be so little anymore. I never, ever, ever thought I would feel this way but a little, tiny part of me is sad that they are going back to school tomorrow. We've had fun these past two weeks. I want to make a concerted effort to not zoom through afternoon and evening hours, trying to get them into bed as soon as possible.

I vow to smother Sam with even more kisses, if it is even possible. He is just getting more and more delicious. Trying to walk more these days, being more demanding and control freaky, saying "uh oh," "oooo," and "what's that?" It is very adorable and frightening. He's getting a mind of his own and I'm not sure how much I like that. Seriously, the blob stage is my favorite.

Happy New Year y'all!

The Day the Earth Stood Still

Chang and I had a date night tonight. It feels like it has been a long time since we have been able to get out on our own so it was fun.

We (he) wanted to watch Transporter 3, which I hear is gunning for academy awards. But we weren't able to get to the theatre in time. So we watched The Day the Earth Stood Still. It was just okay, though Keanu Reeves was great as a stoic and laconic non-human. I couldn't help but feel, however, that the message of the movie was very timely. The human race is in a crisis state and we arrived here by our own doing. We all bit off more than we can chew and the world's economy is going to pieces. We invented all these modern conveniences and it is destroying our environment. It makes me think about the line repeated in one of my favorite movies Heathers, "What a waste, oh the humanity."

However, a big theme in The Day the Earth Stood Still was that we, the human race, are capable of changing for the better. And I really believe this is true. It is in the moments when we hit rock bottom, when we are faced with the reality and limitations of our humanity, that we can shine. We let go and give it up to God...like when I was told I would miscarry Sam...like when the ER doctors were freaking out as I was lying on the gurney, bleeding out...like when my mom told me she had cancer.

Our children are our biggest ways of declaring our hope for the future and staking our trust in tomorrow. There are many reasons why I love my children, but one of them, is because I see love and joy, so pure and unadulterated in them.

Whoa!...as Keanu would say...all this from watching one of his movies.

Snarkiness to follow shortly...

According to the final pathology report and the surgical oncologist, my mom is CURED! Yay! Hallelujah! We still need to meet with the medical oncologist to determine what to do about going on anti-estrogen pills despite the fact that my mom suffers greatly when not on her estrogen pills. Her tumor is estrogen receptor positive so continual consumption of estrogen could possibly bring back another tumor. Hard to say. When we meet with the medical oncologist, she will give us a better idea.

I'm trying to get back to life as normal. I don't even know what normal is anymore. Last year I could have been on a punch card system with the ER (a total of six visits to UCLA Santa Monica) and a ride in an ambulance (woo woo!). Plus the buying and selling of primary residences, moving my mother in law here from Wisconsin (and her many visits to the hospital), and being pregnant and having a baby, I was exhausted. I declared 2008 as my year of rest. I don't feel like I have been resting much but I guess when I reflect on this year compared to last year, this year is less crazy. Of course, the world around us seems to tumbling down with the economic crisis and both our moms' surgeries. But when I close the front door to our house, we can pretend that life is "normal" and all is good.

I am always concerned that our children are growing up spoiled. They have everything they need and yet they still want more. Growing up, Chang and I were painfully aware that we didn't have a lot of wealth. Being in LA, we live in a society that hungers for material possessions and separates people between the have and have-nots. I am scared that our kids' strife will originate in their lack of designer clothes and their perspective will be completely skewed. Though I do not want trouble to follow me all the days of my life, there is a part of me that is grateful for all this drama. Hopefully, it will be a continual reminder to our children and even ourselves, to take nothing for granted and be grateful for the important things--our Heavenly Father, our health, and our wholeness.

I plan on going back to my self-deprecating, inappropriate parenting monologues soon. I do not intend to be Ms. Kumbaya henceforth. Snarkiness will resume.

A Husband's Apology

For regular fans of Susan's blog, this substitute blogger will come as a surprise. Tomorrow, Susan will be taking her mother to have surgery to remove one of her breasts. Please pray for Susan's mother, the doctors and nurses who will be operating on her, and Susan and all of her family members and friends who are deeply concerned about her mother. Please also pray for a successful removal of all cancerous cells and a quick and full recovery.

In Susan's absence, I, her dutiful husband, will try to fill her enormous shoes (not literal, of course, because she has small feet, even after giving birth to 3 kids) and submit this blog. I just came back from Susan's mom with Joey and Elysha, after having spent the weekend with Susan's brother and his family and Susan's mother and two aunts and one uncle. After I came back, Susan and I were talking on the phone about her mother's upcoming surgery and it reminded me of when my father went in for surgery to remove cancer from his liver 17 years ago. That surgery was not successful and my father passed away not too long afterwards.

However, that experience taught me some valuable lessons about life and the people we love. You see, my Dad was a man of very few words, especially towards me. Like most Korean men of his generation, he had the view that the only things he needed to tell me in person were the things that I needed to work on (my weaknesses--not that there were many, come on); he wanted to make me into a better person and he figured that the things that I was already good at didn't need to be mentioned. But, as a proud father, outside of my presence, he would tell others about all of my accomplishments (which may or may not have been much depending on your perspective).

My father was also a man of action. He sacrificed everything for his family, even taking on the most menial of jobs (ones I could never think of doing), to provide for us. As I grew older and more mature, I began to understand his perspective and the true reasons behind his actions. I was fortunate enough that my father lived long enough for me to share my gratitude for being the man that God made him and for the values that he instilled in me. I can only imagine the regret that I would feel today had I not shared my gratitude and feelings with him before he left this world.

Getting back to my trip back from Susan's mom, I reflected on the thing that means more to me than anyone else in this world--yup, you guessed it, my ipod touch--no, just kidding (at least that is what Susan would say). It's my beautiful, wonderful and God appointed wife, Susan. As devastated as I would be to lose any of my children, I think that losing Susan probably scares me the most. As much as I can't ever see recovering from the loss of a child, at least I would have Susan to console me. Losing her would be unbearable.

Thinking about Susan, I realize that I consistently fail to tell the most important person in my life how much she means to me on a daily, scratch that bi-yearly basis. I remember when we first were married, I vowed to tell her that I love her every day, and somehow, I seemed to have forgotten (or when I am upset, choose to forget) that vow. I also promised myself to give her a kiss every time I see her and right before we fall asleep, and again, I have failed to keep that promise (especially when I am tired, or act like I'm too tired). And, Susan will point out that she is always fourth in line when I come home and pass out kisses. For all those broken promises and vows, I want to sincerely apologize to the woman that I couldn't live without.

Susan, I'll try to do a better job, but in the meantime, please know how much you mean to me, even when I fail to verbally express it or to let my actions show my love for you. And, even though the thought of not having you in my life would devastate me, the thought of my not having told you so would be unthinkable.

A Few More Tears

So my mom is really hoping to get the surgery this coming Monday. I'm calling the doctor's office everyday but I'm not getting through to the scheduler which has been so frustrating. The doctor seemed really great and sympathetic when we were in her office. But now, I'm wondering what it is going to take to get the date we want.

My usual MO--focused on the task at hand. What needs to get done. I am a project/task- oriented person. I am (or was, pre-kids) great at accomplishing things on schedule--part of the reason I project managed in my former life--I was also great at getting other people to do what they needed to do. Even 8 months pregnant with Sam, I essentially played the role of general contractor to eight different contractors to get our home ready for our move-in date. I hounded, I insisted, and we managed to get everything (foundation, roof, mold, kitchen, electrical, plumbing, chimney, dry wall patching) done in six weeks. Three weeks of crunch time unpacking (I even had a daily schedule for which rooms I was going to unpack/organize), and then pop! Sam came. And believe it or not, I willed myself to go into labor on 11/15 (a funny story I will tell later)--what can I say? That's the date I scheduled for Sam's birth.

But now, I feel a bit helpless and extremely annoyed. My mom calls me with questions. I have my own questions. I need to talk to someone but no one at the doctor's office is returning my calls. Chang and I talk about it one night and as he falls asleep, a few more tears. I believe that my mom is going to survive. She is a survivor. But then I think about the pain she is going to experience, post-surgery. I don't know that I can see my mom in so much pain. I am going to be an emotional wreck but I can't be. If I lose it, then she suffers more. With all the family drama we had in our past, I was stoic in front of my mom. I never wanted her to see me suffer because I didn't want her to feel additionally burdened by my damaged emotions. I've mastered the silent sobbing into my pillow.

But every now and then, I can't control it. Like when my grandmother passed away...exactly one month after Elysha was born. I was so eager to see her after Elysha's birth but everyone told me to stay home. I wanted so much for my grandmother, Young Ae, to see her great-granddaughter, Elysha Young. But it never happened. So during her funeral, I practically tore my clothes and poured ashes on my head.

I'm afraid that I'm going to start wailing when I see my mom, in her weakened condition, unable to move her arms, in bed, with drains to catch the fluid that is leaking out of her body. So in addition to praying that we get the date that we want, quick and painless recovery, beating the C monster 100%, I am also praying that I can keep it together. My mom doesn't need any more pain inflicted upon her.

Wonder Woman

I hung out with some mommy friends this weekend. It was a favor for a friend and his new business. But our kickbacks were makeup, hair and style makeovers by the most amazing group of guys--they've worked on shows like American's Next Top Model and American Idol, and on people like Reese Witherspoon. Yup, it was so LA and it was so awesome.

Anyhow, I was talking to one of my friends and she said she read my blog just once (ouch!). It happened to be a post about how I was cooking dinner for my family with my organically home-grown vegetables. She said she didn't know how I did it when she can barely keep her sh** together with two kids. I started to feel bad. I hear that a lot. It's like because I have three kids, I have reached a level of honor reserved for firefighters, peace corps workers and Mother Theresa.

Let me just clear the air here. Yes, three kids is a challenge. But I don't have my shtuff together either. Obviously, my posts are me highlighting my brilliant maternal moves (except the last two). Yes, I might bake Sprinkles Strawberry cupcakes (buttercream frosting and all) from scratch, but I also do a lot of Trader Joe's frozen stuff for dinner. I might do five loads of laundry each week, but I never clean my bathrooms (just so you know before you get really grossed out, I pay someone to do that). And, I am probably the most boring mom west of the Mississippi. I use the TV a lot and I let my precious baby cry while I check email or read a blog. The girls are getting older so they are getting better at entertaining themselves, but when I read about what other moms of three do with their kids, I feel like I need to be doing a better job.

I feel ashamed about my laissez-faire method of parenting. I feel like I should be getting down on my hands and knees, and fostering the brilliance that, natch, lie dormant in my children. But everyday I feel like I am just surviving. One day, I tell myself, I will do all the things I want to do with my children. But I learned a valuable lesson from Desperate Housewives yesterday (see honey, it is educational and entertaining!). Five years can go by in a blink (which it has with Joey), and even though I keep thinking I have time to proactively cultivate their minds, the day might come when I realize I am going to have to clean up my mess.

People might think I am Wonder Woman. But honestly, I feel like a failure, more often than not. The picture in my mind of the mom that I want to be, is so far from my reality.

Will our kids be as Korean as they look?

Okay, here is a serious topic that I have been thinking about a lot these days.

Even though Chang and I are both 100% Korean ethnically, we are culturally Korean-American. I say Korean-American because you can bet your kimchijigae that if you compare us to a Caucasian-American family, there will be very discernable differences. But we would probably identify more with a Caucasian-American family than with a Korean-Korean family. Beyond the fact that we eat rice regularly or our kids ask for oo-yoo when they want milk, I think the Korean part of our heritage is interwoven in our daily lives. Even so, I feel a sense of loss on many levels. For instance, I know that our kids will probably not speak korean, or pick it up as easily as I did when I was 18, and made the decision to start speaking korean to my parents. Will our kids ever have really meaningful conversations with the older generation in our families? Did I? Nope.

I am already a very watered down Korean girl. Someone once told me that my parents raised me wrong because I was never forced to speak Korean, learn Korean customs, or even eat Korean food. I dated various ethnicities, but it was when I was dating a Caucasian Texan in college that I realized that being with an ethnically Korean man was more important to me than I originally thought.

To think that Chang and I are somehow suppose to impart Korean culture and customs to our children seems like a hopeless cause. But at the same time, what is it that I want to pass down to our children? Speaking the language? Eating the food? Or is the implicit understandings that are inherent not only in Korean culture as it is just common decency and displaying compassion, selflessness, and generosity--bringing a gift when invited to someone's house, caring for the older generation, fighting over the restaurant tab, making monumental sacrifices in order to give to the younger generation a better chance at a better life.

Just some thoughts that have been running through my head and will probably keep running through my head even when my kids are married and have their own kids.

A Good Day...

A Good Day in my life would feature any one of the following (I'm not greedy--even just one good thing makes it a good day):

* I come into the kitchen in the morning and the dishwasher has been unloaded by my darling husband (who will so be getting some that evening--psst...husbands take note, if you are bemoaning the lack of stuff happening in the sack, I'll tell you how you can insure a roll in the hay TONIGHT!!!)
* Joey and Elysha do not fight or whine in the morning before they leave for school.
* My hair looks good without any effort (I've got the no effort part down pat, but the hair-looking-good part is not going too well these last 4 1/2 years).
* I can put on my pants on without tucking in my stomachs (that's not a typo...and stop laughing or I'll lift up my shirt and make you wish you were blind).
* No one tells me I look tired. (Well, duh. Of course I'm tired. You would be tired too with three kids.)
* There is no laundry in the hampers waiting to be washed or folded or put away...or if there is, my darling husband takes care of just one load from start to finish, thereby saving me from one of the four loads of laundry I do every week (psst...are you men taking notes?).
* I get to carry a purse without any diapers or Goldfish cracker crumbs in it.
* I get to drink a beer or a glass of wine (heck, any alcoholic beverage would do).
* James McAvoy is on the cover of a magazine and I get a chance to see all the pictures of him inside and read the article. I heart him. For those of you (Sophia) who share this sentiment, watch the following films: Wanted (so hot), Becoming Jane (so passionate), The Last King of Scotland (so brutal), The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (so cute), Starter for Ten (so loveable), Wimbledon (so funny) and of course, Atonement (so omg hot).
* I cook something with produce that is homegrown.
* I eat See's Candy (which Chang bought for me because he was just thinking about me).
* I get to wear cute shoes (i.e. no flip-flops or slip-on sneakers).
* I get into bed before midnight and fall asleep right away.
* My beautiful children give me big hugs and kisses and tell me they love me (including Sam).
* Chang does the dishes while I am sitting in front of the TV, watching old episodes of Friends or Sex and the City, and eating ice cream.
* And last but not least, I recognize how good my life is, don't complain, and feel joy just because God is good.

Food Diary of a Breastfeeding mother

When I was still nursing Sam, I was eating enough for two. I was always eating whenever I was on the phone and one day, Touko (my BFF from childhood) thought it would be funny for me to do a food diary. I was talking to someone recently and she wanted me to post it because she also thought it would be humorous. I only managed to do two days but here they are:

Day One:

One Raspberry Scone
One fried egg with slice of Cheese
One cup Soy Milk Coffee
Two servings Meat Lasagna
One package Spicy Ramen
One cup Chai Tea Latte with soy milk
Handful of cashews
Handful of grapes
Chinese chicken salad with one and one half breast of chicken
Two slices of chocolate chip cookie pie
one bowl of honey bunches of oats cereal

Orange juice, milk and water for beverages

Day Two:

One fried egg with cheese

One cinnamon raisin bagel with plain cream cheese

One cup soy milk coffee

One Carl's Jr Famous Star Cheeseburger

Medium fries

Bulgogi

Rice

Kimchee

Spicy beansprouts

Seaweed

Two pieces of chocolate chip cookie pie

One Bowl of honey bunches of oats

Orange juice, milk, water and root beer for beverages

I have been thinking a lot about body image and having a healthy relationship with food. It really sucks that women in particular struggle with it so much...If you ask any woman what they would like to change about their appearance, 99% of us would be able to tell you in a heartbeat a whole laundry list of things we would like to nip, tuck or suck. I am trying to be careful about saying F-A-T around the girls because I don't ever want themselves to think that way about themselves. But I guess that means that I also need to not think that way about myself too. Easier said than done...

Daughters vs. Sons

As I was feeding Sam today, this thought ran through my head. Sometimes I wonder if loving a son is different from loving a daughter. I say glibly that I love them all the same because that is the easy answer. But in my heart, I know that it is not true. I can hear all the gasps from my large loyal blog followers, er, follower (hi Honey!) but I am not saying that I love one more than the other.

Because I am also a girl (woman, female, whatever), I think I feel a greater responsibility towards my daughters. I remember the difficult years, my struggles with insecurity, self-loathing, how bitchy and emotional female relationships can be, my turbulent relationship with my own mother, the societal expectations that encumbered me because of my gender and being Korean. I want to protect Joey and Elysha from making the same mistakes that I made--not just my stupid actions towards others, but also my despondent thoughts that hurt myself. Granted, if I were to psychologically deconstruct myself, I can blame a number of blatant factors that caused such self-hurt. While I am quite certain that the girls will not have to deal with the same exact issues of parental abandonment and drifting, somehow, insecurity rears its ugly head in the lives of most young women.

So to some degree, my love for the girls is burdened with this sense of responsibility as well as expectations that they not turn out the same way I did. My love for Sam, however, is not weighed down by the same sentiments. Of course, I want him to love God with all this heart, be a functioning member of society, president of the United States--you know--normal ambitions a mother has for her son. But it is not yoked in the same way as my love for the girls. I wonder if Chang feels the same way. Just thoughts that I wanted to put down on "paper..."

How could I not love this widdle face more? ha ha

The artist formerly known as...

I met with some mommy friends from church yesterday and I noticed something about myself. I can speak a little bit more coherently than before. These GRE words are flying out of my mouth and my eyes grow big with glee realizing that I thunk up such big words on the fly. Words like juxtaposition, laconic, fo' shizzle. And I think it has do to with the fact that I have been blogging. Prior to this, I have only written emails and some Arbonne trainings since I left the work world. I do have a mommy journal that has some ramblings about Joey and Elysha as babies. But that is about it.

I kept saying last night that I believe everyone has one good novel in them. I have always wanted to write mine. I have no delusions that I can actually make a living by being a scribe. Or that Angelina Jolie will play me in the movie, that is based on the book, that is based on my life. But I just know that at the very least, I have a good short story that I can cook up and some periodical will want to publish it (maybe Vanity Fair, The New Yorker, Our Family Newsletter--only the distinguished journals).

I used to write all the time--mostly poems. But my poetry came from a very melancholic heart--which is why I LOVED foreign poets. Aside from Edgar Allen Poe, I found that foreign poets were the most passionate, yearning-filled, and unrequited. And I identified with them so profoundly. But then God healed my heart and my life fell into place. Then there was silence. From time to time, the silence was deafening. But I always felt that I could not let myself get to that emotional state, that for me, is my creative state.

These days, however, there is a yearning to write again...I guess we'll just have to see...

Sam-centered blog?

Okay, so maybe I gush too much about Sam and not enough about the girls. But they have been fighting so much and whining so much these days that I am ready to ship them away.

So, I am going to try to do devotionals with them everyday and see if it helps. First of all, focus on them a little bit more and spend quality time with them. Secondly, that the fruit of the spirit would grow in them...I need it too! Especially patience...