Lately, Jordan has consistently been able to wear one outfit the entire day (you laugh, but this was immense progress from our four to five outfits per day era which was not that long ago). Our laundry loads had decreased significantly. The weight of the diaper bag had declined dramatically. The amount of daily spit-up clean up had dropped as well.
We thought our days of spit-up had passed us. We thought we had moved on to bigger and better things. We were right.
Unfortunately, puke trumps spit-up. And after Jordan projectile vomited vehemently three times on Valentine's night, I encountered an entirely new threshold of disgusting things you overlook for the sake of your child. As I sat there with a rare combination of fish, rice, strawberries, zucchini, pasta sauce and little noodle bits on my skin with the pool of vomit pressed against my back (it was warm though, having just left Jordan's stomach)...and all I could think of was oh my goodness, is he okay? my poor baby!
Jordan loves us both equally and has shown us such - as he never spit-up on me as bad as on Andy this one momentous occasion when he was about two months old. Alas, he wanted to demonstrate his unbiased love for me on this sweetheart night at almost ten months, and I have learned a few things with certainty.
1) puke trumps spit-up: Jordan must love me more!....
2) nothing is disgusting when it's your child: not poop, not throw-up, not snot, not anything!
3) we're in it together: I am so grateful for an eternal companion who is there when the throw up overthrows us
4) babies are tough: Andy gave Jordan a quick bath and next thing you know, he was up and ready to play, giggling, crawling, and full of energy. I don't know about you, but after I puke, I'm emotionally and physically withdrawn and just need to rest...but no...not Jordan!
5) Valentine's 2012 will forever be embedded in my memory as the night Jordan threw up all over me
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
I Am Not Domestic
Yet.
Operative word here.
I tried to make shredded pork roast in the crock pot. It's almost near impossible to screw up crock pot food, but never fear, I accomplished that by using the wrong type of meat (lean pork roast becomes really dry, it's better to use fatty meat like pork shoulder or butt or so I've learned). As sad of a realization as that is, I am actually quite proud of how far I've come. A year ago, I didn't even know where to get pork roasts from (I asked the meat guy who walked me over to where pork butts were - ohhh, they're the same thing? roast is inclusive of all types of areas on the pig but it's just this big chunk? ohhh ok...)
Last night, we had some friends over for dessert and games and I thought... I'll just make something easy with what we have. So chocolate strawberries it was! Do you know it is not easy to melt chocolate in the microwave (burned it into pieces) or the oven?! And even worse, it is a pain in the rear to clean up afterwards. Therefore, the $4 per chocolate dipped strawberry is VERY worth it in my book. I wish I took a picture of my failed chocolate dipped strawberries, the chocolate consistency was anything but consistent, chunky and funky looking, but according to my nice friends and husband, it tasted just fine. Sometimes white lies are good for the soul.
Tonight, I spent hours making homemade cream cheese with strawberries frosting for my cupcakes I made from cake in a box. I don't make cake from scratch (except for carrot, I'm a pro at that!) because cake in a box tastes wonderful and nobody ever says, "Oh, this taste just like cake in a box, I can't believe you didn't make it from scratch!" But I mashed some strawberries for my cream cheese, butter and powdered sugar concoction... and then it was too watery. So I added some more powdered sugar. And then it was too powder sugary. And then I added more cream cheese. And then I called my sister-in-law. She told me to add more powdered sugar, so I did. Again. That's right. And then I called my friend, Jen, who is a baking guru who actually gave me some wonderful advice and insight - apparently beating cream cheese on the side by itself makes it more creamy before adding it to my mixture (wish I spoke to her the first time I added more cream cheese) and if I have too much frosting (which I definitely did....) I could always split it into two and try to thicken half of my mixture (genius!).
I then used this new awesome technique I learned from Pinterest (unfortunately I could not find the link to share (you put some frosting onto saran wrap and then wrap it like candy with the sides twisted, cut one side of the twisted sides, put that open part into your piping bag and bam! super neat and easy to dispose piping frosting bags!!!)!
My cupcakes look sad. Like something melted on top of them and then puked some speckles of pink. Alas, it makes me happy because they do taste just like the pretty pink cupcakes I had growing up. You see, in elementary school, I always looked forward to the cupcakes the white room mothers would bring. I say "white" because that's how I thought of them as my own Chinese mother did not know how to make cupcakes (and none of my Asian friends' moms did either.. we were all the first generation born here) and therefore, I was in awe of these scrumptious wonders that I got at school on Christmas and Valentine's Day (I'm still unsure why these were the only two holidays we always had a party with treats from the room mothers). I'm not trying to be racist here but Chinese people don't eat cupcakes. American Born Chinese people do... but go to a Chinese bakery... and guess what, they do not sell cupcakes. Lots of little cakes and pastries.. but no cupcakes, at least none that I've been to thus far in life. I digress.
Often when I'm having these not so great domestic moments as a novice, Andy encourages me by telling me the fact that I'm trying is more important than being good at it already. What a great guy. I'm glad he's my Valentine tomorrow, cuz someone's gotta eat dem messed up cupcakes right?!
Operative word here.
I tried to make shredded pork roast in the crock pot. It's almost near impossible to screw up crock pot food, but never fear, I accomplished that by using the wrong type of meat (lean pork roast becomes really dry, it's better to use fatty meat like pork shoulder or butt or so I've learned). As sad of a realization as that is, I am actually quite proud of how far I've come. A year ago, I didn't even know where to get pork roasts from (I asked the meat guy who walked me over to where pork butts were - ohhh, they're the same thing? roast is inclusive of all types of areas on the pig but it's just this big chunk? ohhh ok...)
Last night, we had some friends over for dessert and games and I thought... I'll just make something easy with what we have. So chocolate strawberries it was! Do you know it is not easy to melt chocolate in the microwave (burned it into pieces) or the oven?! And even worse, it is a pain in the rear to clean up afterwards. Therefore, the $4 per chocolate dipped strawberry is VERY worth it in my book. I wish I took a picture of my failed chocolate dipped strawberries, the chocolate consistency was anything but consistent, chunky and funky looking, but according to my nice friends and husband, it tasted just fine. Sometimes white lies are good for the soul.
Tonight, I spent hours making homemade cream cheese with strawberries frosting for my cupcakes I made from cake in a box. I don't make cake from scratch (except for carrot, I'm a pro at that!) because cake in a box tastes wonderful and nobody ever says, "Oh, this taste just like cake in a box, I can't believe you didn't make it from scratch!" But I mashed some strawberries for my cream cheese, butter and powdered sugar concoction... and then it was too watery. So I added some more powdered sugar. And then it was too powder sugary. And then I added more cream cheese. And then I called my sister-in-law. She told me to add more powdered sugar, so I did. Again. That's right. And then I called my friend, Jen, who is a baking guru who actually gave me some wonderful advice and insight - apparently beating cream cheese on the side by itself makes it more creamy before adding it to my mixture (wish I spoke to her the first time I added more cream cheese) and if I have too much frosting (which I definitely did....) I could always split it into two and try to thicken half of my mixture (genius!).
I then used this new awesome technique I learned from Pinterest (unfortunately I could not find the link to share (you put some frosting onto saran wrap and then wrap it like candy with the sides twisted, cut one side of the twisted sides, put that open part into your piping bag and bam! super neat and easy to dispose piping frosting bags!!!)!
My cupcakes look sad. Like something melted on top of them and then puked some speckles of pink. Alas, it makes me happy because they do taste just like the pretty pink cupcakes I had growing up. You see, in elementary school, I always looked forward to the cupcakes the white room mothers would bring. I say "white" because that's how I thought of them as my own Chinese mother did not know how to make cupcakes (and none of my Asian friends' moms did either.. we were all the first generation born here) and therefore, I was in awe of these scrumptious wonders that I got at school on Christmas and Valentine's Day (I'm still unsure why these were the only two holidays we always had a party with treats from the room mothers). I'm not trying to be racist here but Chinese people don't eat cupcakes. American Born Chinese people do... but go to a Chinese bakery... and guess what, they do not sell cupcakes. Lots of little cakes and pastries.. but no cupcakes, at least none that I've been to thus far in life. I digress.
Often when I'm having these not so great domestic moments as a novice, Andy encourages me by telling me the fact that I'm trying is more important than being good at it already. What a great guy. I'm glad he's my Valentine tomorrow, cuz someone's gotta eat dem messed up cupcakes right?!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Love Is...
using your wife's computer and talking to her boss on instant messaging while she's gone.
matching your tie to your wife's outfit when dressing up in Sunday best.
changing your kid's diaper first thing in the morning so your wife can sleep for five more minutes.
leaving a note in the microwave with chocolate for your wife before going out of town for an interview, telling her how much you appreciate her cleaning it after she followed that Pinterest suggestion and microwaved water in a bowl for 5 minutes and then wiped it down, yes you were also listening.
supporting your wife as she pulls out her hair stressed about work deadlines and early morning meeting calls.
blogging about it as if it were you when it's really your wife who tried to blog but was too lazy to switch accounts.
matching your tie to your wife's outfit when dressing up in Sunday best.
changing your kid's diaper first thing in the morning so your wife can sleep for five more minutes.
leaving a note in the microwave with chocolate for your wife before going out of town for an interview, telling her how much you appreciate her cleaning it after she followed that Pinterest suggestion and microwaved water in a bowl for 5 minutes and then wiped it down, yes you were also listening.
supporting your wife as she pulls out her hair stressed about work deadlines and early morning meeting calls.
blogging about it as if it were you when it's really your wife who tried to blog but was too lazy to switch accounts.
Friday, February 3, 2012
For Valentine's This Year...
I expect turquoise boxes with overpriced and mediocre heart shaped jewelry inside.
I expect soft stuffed animals with red hearts, along with red roses, chocolate, and mylar heart balloons.
I expect lots of glitter, tissue paper, and poems from the heart.
I expect bubbly drinks, fancy dessert, and elaborately thoughtful expressions of love.
I expect all of this because that's what Facebook, Pinterest, and the television tell me.
Can you tell I'm still not a fan of Valentine's Day despite being happily married? What used to be S.A.D. (single awareness day) is now just S. A. D. (such a dud). Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it reminds us the meaning of love, to be grateful for love, and to love love love... but ultimately, the historical objective of Valentine's Day was just to make more money, and because of what it's become... we just spend too much effort for a made up holiday. Yes... I'm Ant-Valentine's, yet here I am blogging about it, precisely why I despise Valentine's Day!
The only thing I want from Valentine's Day this year is pink sugar. Edible pink glitter, buttery pink frosting, frothy pink drinks, silky pink maple syrup, creamy pink whipped cream, savory pink pudding, and addictive caramel pink popcorn. And a pink crown to top it off. Think pink!
I expect soft stuffed animals with red hearts, along with red roses, chocolate, and mylar heart balloons.
I expect lots of glitter, tissue paper, and poems from the heart.
I expect bubbly drinks, fancy dessert, and elaborately thoughtful expressions of love.
I expect all of this because that's what Facebook, Pinterest, and the television tell me.
Can you tell I'm still not a fan of Valentine's Day despite being happily married? What used to be S.A.D. (single awareness day) is now just S. A. D. (such a dud). Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it reminds us the meaning of love, to be grateful for love, and to love love love... but ultimately, the historical objective of Valentine's Day was just to make more money, and because of what it's become... we just spend too much effort for a made up holiday. Yes... I'm Ant-Valentine's, yet here I am blogging about it, precisely why I despise Valentine's Day!
The only thing I want from Valentine's Day this year is pink sugar. Edible pink glitter, buttery pink frosting, frothy pink drinks, silky pink maple syrup, creamy pink whipped cream, savory pink pudding, and addictive caramel pink popcorn. And a pink crown to top it off. Think pink!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Why Everyone Should Journal
I come from a family of hoarders. I don't like to admit it, but it's about time I purge myself of some old toiletries (perfumes, make-up, lotions, sprays, etc.) and clothes... and I am making it a goal to do so before we move for residency. In my defense, I know glitter is going to come back, I know my purple eye shadow trio is going to be cool again, I might need a miniature sized tube of lipstick one day, I never know when I might need another tube of eye cream, and I just might want to use my Love Spell lotion or Gio perfume soon. My dad keeps a lot of excess nails, computer cords and accessories and anything else he collects at garage sales (a hobby of ours almost every weekend growing up). My brother has piles of comic books he's collected over the years, board games and figurines from his Dungeon and Dragon days. And last but not least, my mom has shoes and random house items used for model homes she tries to sell. We are a family of hoarders.
After watching an episode of Hoarders recently, I started to think ... maybe I should try to organize everything for my folks. So with that goal in mind, I set to start conquering the mess in our garage today. I found old college textbooks I instructed my dad to throw away, all in a box. I found old clothes, I had told my dad were to be donated to Goodwill, also all in a box. I looked through old photos from high school and college, letters from middle school, old Hello Kitty wallets I had blinged with AB crystals from my ballroom days, and a pile of old journals.
I opened up one and this is what I saw:
The funniest thing is... Wendy and Eric are married. I sent this to Wendy, and some of our other close friends, and we all had a good laugh. It's no wonder my memory is the best out of all my friends. I have journaling to thank for that. And that my friends, is why everyone should journal.
After watching an episode of Hoarders recently, I started to think ... maybe I should try to organize everything for my folks. So with that goal in mind, I set to start conquering the mess in our garage today. I found old college textbooks I instructed my dad to throw away, all in a box. I found old clothes, I had told my dad were to be donated to Goodwill, also all in a box. I looked through old photos from high school and college, letters from middle school, old Hello Kitty wallets I had blinged with AB crystals from my ballroom days, and a pile of old journals.
I opened up one and this is what I saw:
The funniest thing is... Wendy and Eric are married. I sent this to Wendy, and some of our other close friends, and we all had a good laugh. It's no wonder my memory is the best out of all my friends. I have journaling to thank for that. And that my friends, is why everyone should journal.
Eric and Wendy... 16 years and still going (okay, they did break up in between but that doesn't matter). And if you don't know who Keroppi is, you're probably not Asian.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
A Day Without Me
Today was pivotal. Life-changing. Empowering. Transformational. And absolutely wonderful.
I went to the Southern California Power of Moms retreat and was gone from Andy and Jordan for more than 8 hours...! That might not sound like a big deal, but for a mom who has never been separated from her son for more than 4 hours, for a mom who still worries about if her son will eat enough solids to (since he still won't take a bottle), for a mom who is just a bit obsessive, overbearing and controlling.... to say I was intimidated is an understatement. I was terrified.
As for the retreat, it was AWESOME!!! I came home, opened up the copious notes I had taken, and started updating Andy on everything I had learned. I'll have to save a summary for another post (because it might be long, I'm tired from a late night date with laundry, and Andy just came home from watching the BYU game). More importantly, when I got home... I sadly realized I'm not that needed.
Apparently, Jordan did great without me! He ate, he slept, he went to the park, went to the store, went to Costco, to visit some friends, he even took some pumped milk from a straw (but caramel helped coax him to sip it faster). I'll be honest... I was a bit devastated. My heart hurt a bit. I guess maybe I secretly did hope he'd miss me a little, even though I also wanted him to be on his best behavior for Andy. I know I can't have both. As it turns out, my husband might need me more than my son. That's something.. right?!
"I'm so hungry, what's for dinner?" my husband asked when I stepped into the home - before even telling him how much fun I had!...
"Did you eat lunch?" I asked... "Well..." he stammered... "there's just no food at home," and I rebutted his statement with a ferocious stare and responded with, "WHAT?!" and he quickly finished his thought, "... that's easy to make."
Oh Andy.
Oh Andy.
I went to the Southern California Power of Moms retreat and was gone from Andy and Jordan for more than 8 hours...! That might not sound like a big deal, but for a mom who has never been separated from her son for more than 4 hours, for a mom who still worries about if her son will eat enough solids to (since he still won't take a bottle), for a mom who is just a bit obsessive, overbearing and controlling.... to say I was intimidated is an understatement. I was terrified.
As for the retreat, it was AWESOME!!! I came home, opened up the copious notes I had taken, and started updating Andy on everything I had learned. I'll have to save a summary for another post (because it might be long, I'm tired from a late night date with laundry, and Andy just came home from watching the BYU game). More importantly, when I got home... I sadly realized I'm not that needed.
Apparently, Jordan did great without me! He ate, he slept, he went to the park, went to the store, went to Costco, to visit some friends, he even took some pumped milk from a straw (but caramel helped coax him to sip it faster). I'll be honest... I was a bit devastated. My heart hurt a bit. I guess maybe I secretly did hope he'd miss me a little, even though I also wanted him to be on his best behavior for Andy. I know I can't have both. As it turns out, my husband might need me more than my son. That's something.. right?!
"I'm so hungry, what's for dinner?" my husband asked when I stepped into the home - before even telling him how much fun I had!...
"Did you eat lunch?" I asked... "Well..." he stammered... "there's just no food at home," and I rebutted his statement with a ferocious stare and responded with, "WHAT?!" and he quickly finished his thought, "... that's easy to make."
Oh Andy.
Oh Andy.
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