When You're Feeling Down

5 loads of laundry.
27 pieces of rice krispy cereal on the floor.
1 rotten banana. leaking...onto my
5 newly but now ruined sticks of Mentos.

5 seconds.
1 baby's curiosity.
1 mom's carelessness.
1 lick of a Pledge bottle.
2 hours of calls with the on call nurse and poison control.

2 sick boys.
2 infected ears.
lots of tissue boxes.
coughing.  hacking.  gooey yuckiness.
1 healthy mom (so far). ...

Whenever you feel down with life... with how messy your house is, how out of control your to do lists have become, and overwhelmed by the thought of what you would like to do but cannot do because of circumstances outside of your control... just know you are not alone.  That's what I'm telling myself today.

And if you still feel bad... just remember you were the one spermatozoa who made it.  Out of millions!

Yeah, feeling pretty good about myself right now.

Zhua Zhou: Our Family's Chinese Tradition

Whenever a child turns one in my family, it's customary for us to have a zhua zhou.  Translated to English, zhua is "to pick" and zhou is my Maiden name, or a first anniversary.  Upon turning one, a bunch of symbolic items are placed before a child for them to choose from.  Items represent future career paths or interests, with traditional Chinese items that are homonyms (such as green onions for intelligence since it sounds like smart in Mandarin) and other more straightforward items which have stood the test of time (like a stethoscope or calculator).  

I don't remember my own, but I remember vividly my brother Ray's, my cousin Eileen's, and my cousin's child, Abby's - the family gathering and anticipating which item the child would pick... the screaming, the outward gushes of excitement and loud laughter... not so much what they picked though.  In our family, it's a fun little tradition which doesn't mean much despite it "predicting" what future career paths or interests a child might have.  The Chinese elders like to talk about it like it was obvious from the zhua zhou but I guarantee you I did not pick a calculator (at least I hope not)...

The Koreans do a similar thing called the doljabi only it actually entails a fancy party, some rice columns as part of the decoration and an elaborate Korean outfit the one year old will adorn halfway through the party.  I saw some super cute doljabi boards online but noticed there were no zhua zhou ones, so with the help of my new Adobe Photoshop, I made my own!  I won't be blowing it up to a big board like the Korean parties, but I may print an 8x10 and frame it for the family to make bets and give whoever wins a photo of Jordan framed hahahaha.  

And I made a happy birthday sign.  I haven't decided what I intend to do with it as we're not throwing a party... but my dad got so excited about Jordan's zhua zhou, he offered to pay for whatever we do end up doing as part of our Lee Family Reunion in Santa Barbara this upcoming weekend where Jordan will have his zhua zhou one month early (as we'll be in Washington D.C. with Andy's family on his actual one year birthday).

Oh Photoshop... The Fun We Will Have Together!

I have wanted Adobe Photoshop ever since I used it for a flier I made back in 2000.  Dreams do come true.

For Christmas, my awesome in-laws gave me my own Adobe Photoshop.

Even though I have owned it for a while, I never opened it until this week.

Here's what I made on excel.. without Photoshop, the t-shirt design for my BFF's bachelorette party: destination Austin, Texas.

But Photoshop is way more fun and easy.  Especially since it's so easy to emboss, bevel and drop shadow font and layer stuff.  So here's my experiment for the night.  I am so giggly with excitement.. I'd skip if I weren't sitting lazily on the couch with my wannabe boppy alleviating my lap from the heat from my computer.  HEE.  HEE.

Oh Photoshop, the fun we will have together!

That's My Soap!

My mom got me a few really delicious smelling bars of Asian soap.  I was so excited to shower, thinking of how wonderful it smelled (I use Asian body soap but I bought the wrong kind and this container is so big that it feels like I haven't made much of a dent).  And then I started to notice my wonderful bar of soap growing smaller disproportionately to the speed I was using it.  I didn't figure out who the culprit was until Andy came out smelling like a girl the other day.

"Have you been using my soap?" I asked.

His eyes opened and his shoulders rose as he shrugged.

The look said it all.  "Use your Old Spice body soap!" I demanded.

"I'm all out and it's so easy when the soap's just there."  He then started to articulately explain how the body soap and loofa process is more complicated and time consuming than using the bar of soap. Why doesn't Old Spice doesn't just make a bar of soap instead of body soap?

The bar of Asian soap was at its end two nights ago.  As I was working in the dining room, I heard a yell from Andy asking if I could get him more soap (he knows the box came with four and we've only used two thus far).  "No, just use my body soap!" "No, I don't want to, I'll smell like a girl!" he replied.

Seriously?

I didn't respond.  When Andy was done with his shower, he came out into the living room, asking me why I hadn't brought him the bar of soap.

"It's MY soap!  Just use my body soap!"

I thought we were done with the soap conversation.

In the shower last night, I noticed a new bar of yummy soap sitting there.  "Andy!!!!"  I yelled from the bathroom .... "you got another bar of soap?!  How did you know where it was?" (I didn't hide it, but I just didn't reveal to him where it was tucked away in the guest bathroom cabinets).

"I just took it from the guest bathroom," he responded matter of factly.  "I saw it when I was giving Jordan a bath."

Oh yeah, I left it there because we were out of other bars of soap and had family visiting last week.  DOH!

On my shopping list today: ANY BRAND of soap, bar form.

Intercept What?

It started out as a normal Monday.  Jordan woke up, had some milk, some oatmeal, played a bit and then took his morning nap.  Andy got a nice text message telling him to come in on Tuesday instead, so he stuck around (tender mercy).  I did some work for BlueSky.  Andy did some p90x.  My mom invited us to Tokyo Wako with the my extended uncles, aunts and cousins who are in town from Taiwan.  Jordan woke up.  We got ready to go.  And here's where it all went sour.

I know it's common to blame a misbehaved child on lack of sleep or hunger.  Likewise, Jordan is never unhappy when he wakes up.  He usually can't wait to eat and play.  But this was different.

He didn't want the bottle.  He cried when I tried to feed him his favorite little fishy Chinese rice and carrots (that my mom makes for him).  He whimpered when I changed him.  And then he started arching his back.  Erratically jerking around.  Screaming vehemently.  I didn't know what was wrong, and when I put him in front of his table top toy, he fell to a sitting position and continued to cry in pain.  Something was wrong.  That much I knew.  I called my mom to tell her we wouldn't make it to lunch.  Meanwhile, Andy told me to call the doctor.

When your husband is a medical student... you listen to what he says with a grain of salt.  Most of the time, he has no idea what's wrong and will tell you to just go see a doctor.  When he says in a stern voice to call the doctor now you know something is not right.  It was 12:15 PM, the doctors were at lunch until 1:30 PM, did I want the doctor paged for me?  All of a sudden, Jordan was vomiting.  Projectile. Chunks.  of.  oatmeal.  Still screaming.  And then tired.  Dozing off.  Lethargic.  Barely there.

At this point, Andy was yelling at me to get dressed to go.  He grabbed some oil and gave Jordan a blessing and told me, we were going to the doctor's right that moment.  He kept patting Jordan's face, repeating his name over and over as Jordan looked like all he wanted to do was sleep.  Jordan!  Jordan!  Jordan!  That's all I remember hearing as we raced out the door and to the elevator.  And before the elevator even got called, he told me to dial 911.  At some point, I heard him say Jordan wasn't breathing.  It's all a blur of slow motion now.

We got downstairs and Jordan opened his eyes slowly, only to vomit again.  The 911 operator was asking me where I lived, telling me to stay calm, Andy was repeating Jordan's name over and over, and all I could think was... what if Andy wasn't home?!  I made a silent commitment to take a CPR and first aid class after all this was done.  What if Andy had to work today?!  


Do we stay in the lobby?  Walk out to the parking lot?  Andy, what do we do?  Where do we go?  Is he going to be okay? 

The next thing I knew, the fire truck pulled up to us as I motioned to them that this was for us.  They asked some questions, and we began recounting the events' that we would then repeat over and over again to every nurse, doctor, and technician we ran into.  The ambulance came.  He vomited some more.  Jordan's doctor called me back.  She listened to me repeat the playback and suggested we go to the ER.  Andy, unsure if he'd stop breathing, decided to ride in the ambulance with him to the ER.  I drove the van.  Off to the ER we went.

After some more vomiting of bile and interjected screams of pain between short naps, they told us he might have an intussusception.  That means his intestines in his bowels have turned into a telescope on itself as seen here:

Andy went over the options with me and told me he thought they might be able to inject barium into his body with an enema (in other words, for us non-medical field folk, putting this small tube up his butt to get the colored air up there so they can see it on the screen with an x-ray).  If that didn't work... he'd have to have surgery, which would freak me out.  We waited.  And waited.

And finally they took him for an ultrasound.  They put jelly on his stomach and I told him that's what they did when he was inside of mommy's stomach.  He didn't seem to understand.  After they finished a brutally long ultrasound, he vomited again.  We tucked away the towel with the vomit so we could show the ER nurse.  

And then we waited some more.  And some more. Andy had a good feeling it was what they said.  The intercept whatever you call it.  And after a couple more hours, they came to tell us it indeed was.  

We waited some more for the procedure to be done.

And finally they took him for the barium enema.  A radiologist did it (which was neat to me since that's the specialty Andy is going into) and I sat nearby and took photos of the screen.  

After the process was completed, Jordan was admitted into the pediatric wing.  A nurse gave him a happy face orange ball as we were walking over, and he loved it.  That and his little jail crib.  He could not sit still.  Climb over here.  Grab something there.  Pull up.  Sit down.  Crawl around.  We didn't have confirmation from any professionals yet, but we could already tell the procedure worked.

I went home to collect some stuff, came back and poor Jordan had an IV on his left hand.  For anyone who's had a kid, IVs HURT.  My heart ached a little but I was glad I didn't have to hold his hand (thank you hubs) while they inserted the fat needle.  It looked like a little cast and he loved banging it on things to make noise.  He couldn't eat anything in case the intestines weren't completely separated and he needed a more invasive procedure... so he had to wait until 10 PM (that's 12 hours!) for 3 ounces of formula.  To distract him, we facetimed with Andy's sister and parents, called my mom and listened to many of the Church's Children's Songs.  He wanted more food so badly... but we couldn't give him anymore until 12 AM.  And then we only gave him 5 more ounces.  

The night shift began after 11:30 PM.  That's when Andy went home since he had class this morning.  It was absolutely dreadful.  It's not that the sofa bed was uncomfortable, because it actually wasn't bad (and we brought our own blankets).  It was the fact that I had to listen to muffled cries and screams from other children all throughout the night.  It was a bittersweet feeling to know my own son was sound asleep and on the road to recovery while hearing the moans and whimpers not too far away.  

He slept through the night with a few murmured groans, but I woke up everytime someone came in to take his vitals and sporadically in between to make sure he was still breathing.  

In the morning, he had enough.  He wanted out and to crawl around and eat.  Since I couldn't let him crawl on the hospital floor, he cried in rebellion.  

 But I thought he was pretty cute with his little IV arm.  

At one point, he fell asleep and so did I... but he woke up due to some poop and started to bang the IV stand against the crib to get my attention.  Smart boy!  

They monitored him for half a day before we were allowed to leave.  What an experience.  I am grateful for so many things from today.    

I'm grateful my husband has the priesthood and was able to bless him before we left.  

I'm grateful for tender mercies and Andy staying home from work on Monday instead of Tuesday (also his doctor texted him to come in Wednesday instead because he had meetings all Tuesday afternoon).  

I'm grateful for our insurance which is no longer high deductible.  Bring it on ambulance costs.  

I'm grateful for the power of prayer, as I know many prayers were said for Jordan and for us.  

I'm grateful for the flexibility of my other job, which allowed me to still get my work done despite being in the hospital for the last day and a half.  

I'm grateful for Andy's medical training which expedited our trip to the hospital.

I'm grateful for the spirit which guided and calmed us.  

I'm grateful for Jordan not knowing what was on his arm and treating it as a new toy instead.  

I'm grateful he's sleeping soundly and that his intestines are a-okay now.  

I'm grateful for tubes that go up butts to help spread telescoped intestines.  

  

Oh The Places We Will Go!

Congratulations!

Today is our day.

We're off to Great Places!

We're off and away!

We have matched for residency!

We have had a baby too...

We will leave LA completely...

We will have so much packing to do!

We I will have to get some new shoes.

But at least we I get to browse and choose.  

We won't be on our own though 

Lots of family in tow!

We'll have some more posh burgers and Chinese

Before we leave... the days we shall seize.

Probably head to the beach as well,

So we can take photos and show and tell....

That we lived in LA once upon a time

OH!

THE PLACES WE'LL GO!

I, I Love You Like A Love Song, Baby

And I keep hitting repeat-peat-peat-peat-peat-peat!

I always imagined a career change would push me to move.  Or a mid-life crisis if I was still single and looking.  Instead, it's for my husband and our family.  Kind of funny how things turn out and what you'll do for the things that matter.  For the things you love.    

We had been waiting for Match Day since Monday when we were notified that Andy indeed matched.  For some reason, I had convinced myself that I was going to be happy in New Mexico.  On the bright side, we only had to move once for the five year program.  I had done such a good job of managing my expectations that when we matched with Utah, (a program we didn't think we had much of a chance to match with) the envelope reveal made me speechless.  For those who know me, I'm pretty verbose and being speechless is quite rare.  ><

I'm excited, of course I'm excited... but let's face it, I was going to be scared out of my mind at some point regardless of where we matched (so long as it was outside of California).  Despite wanting to go somewhere cheaper and more conservative than the uber liberal, expensive, and pretty superficial state of California, I have not know much of anything else.  I do not know how to live in cold weather.  It's completely foreign to me.  I can't wear flip flops all the time?!  I have to wear socks?!  I don't have boots for the cold... I have boots that are very distant from purposeful.  Wannabe Uggs originally purchased to be paired with tights and skirts and a few pairs of Doc Martens that Andy thinks look manly and chunky, some high heeled boots never worn more than three consecutive hours and still like new, and some goth looking ones for a phase I went through in 2008.  Yes... my collection is sparse and far from applicable for our new adventures in Spokane (for a year) and Salt Lake City.  What do you mean it snows in March elsewhere?  Winter is a few weeks and some rainy days in February, right?? .....

I'm nervous.  Very nervous.  Nervous about moving, leaving, and having to make friends and find my places (you know, to cut your hair, get a facial, buy this, buy that...etc.) again.

I'm eager.  Very eager.  Eager to pack, unpack, organize, put things inside of boxes, rearrange, clean, and make a new home for us.  

I'm tired.  Very tired.  Tired of thinking where to begin.  Tired of realizing I'm a bit of a hoarder pack rat.  Tired of the emotional drain and curiosity I have about whether or not I can do this.

I'm happy.  Very happy.  Happy that we'll be close to family, and happy that Jordan will have easy access to family.

I'm sad.  Very sad.  Sad that we'll be leaving family here and sad that Asian food will never taste so good for so cheap and be so easy.

I also wonder quite a bit.  What's it like over there?  Will I like it?  Can I be positive?  What's there to do?  Can I look on the bright side?  Will I make any new friends?  Do I know how to dress warm enough?  Will it be fun?  Will I get used to it quickly?  Will I miss California?  Will Jordan remember his family here?

I don't have any answers.  Only questions.  And so I just sing this song to remember I'm doing this for things I love.

I, I love you like a love song, baby.  I, I love you like a love song, baby.  And I keep hitting re-peat, peat, peat, peat, peat, peat. .....

The Art of Distraction

I know I haven't been a mom for long.... but I've already learned one of the tricks of the trade.  The art of distraction is fundamental in avoiding chaos, going insane, and yelling regretful and angry rhetorical questions which your child is most likely, unable to answer.

It starts simple.  A soft humming.  Some rocking.  A swaddle.  A song sung.

It tends to change over time.  A game of peek-a-boo.  A new toy.  Something colorful.  Something that makes noise.

At some point, it becomes food.  Or anything electronic that is not a toy until it appeases a cry or a potential tantrum.  That is.. until the child learns to speak.  Or whine.  (Not synonymous though deceptively confusing at times...)

For now.. I'm enjoying the simplicity of distracting Jordan.  The iPhone is off limits, normally.  It has been pulled out for emergencies and has successfully distracted him without fail.

p.s. It works with your significant others as well.

Good Bye Big Ugly Box of Residency Interview Informational Folders!

It's been good knowing you.. but I'm glad it's almost time to discard you.  This morning, Andy let out a yelping scream a little after 9 AM.  He matched!  Ahem, WE matched.  We don't know where, but somewhere.. there's a residency program and potential preliminary program (if we didn't match to a five year program) that wants to train Andy to become a radiologist.  It's extremely exciting news, news worth celebrating, and the culmination of about three grand (not counting Board examinations), a lot of Southwest travel points, a lot of preparation, anxiety, interviewing, and a lot of careful balancing between working hard and leaving it to the Lord.  I am so grateful that we matched, but know that if we didn't... it would not be so bad as the Lord would comfort our natural man tendency to feel inadequate or disappointed.

I am personally excited as Friday approaches (the day we find out where we will be for the next five years and an excuse to have family come visit us - always great fun!) and I get to throw all these binders away.  I've been piling them up slowly after each of Andy's interviews.. anticipating the time I can discard them and have less clutter.  I'm a clutter-phobic and after finally putting away all my BlueSky working papers into my newly purchased Accordian folder, I am pleased with the reduction of work around the dining table.  I would love to work in an office, but it's more logical to work in the dining room so I can watch Jordan while he's playing in the living room.  I also would love for him to have a play room or only play in his room, but for now.. the living room is our place of being.

Good bye big ugly box of residency interview informational folders.  I am glad to see you go.

To the left is a camp bag of Primary stuff I lug around each Sunday... and to the left of his residency folders is my Jordan Baby Book (that I need to update!), my Accordian BlueSky binder, a notebook, my new Adobe Photoshop (that I won't let myself open until I finish all the work necessary for my monthly in person with the bossman meeting that happens on the second Wednesday of the month), our monthly receipts for March thus far and my stapler.

We're In Love!

I'd like to think of myself as a fancy person, but in reality.. I'm quite baffled by the price mark-up at higher end stores.  For example, why Whole Foods chooses to sell Jordan's Earth's Best organic formula for $19.99 while Babies 'R' Us sells it for $8.99 is beyond me.  I suppose it's probably more certifiably organic at Whole Foods, and of course - you need to inflate it to help out with the overhead costs and all the free samples policy (you can sample anything at Whole Foods, even if it's still packaged).... but a 100% mark-up?!  INSANE I tell you!

So when we got married almost two years ago (two in June 2012), thinking of myself as quite fancy, I was excited about using our Crate N Barrel gift cards.  But try as we might, we could never find anything we liked at Crate N Barrel.  Numerous visits.  No progress.  Big sales.  Still nothing I fancied.  The problem was, I could get it for less at Ross!  Or TJMaxx!  But then... this Christmas, Andy's sister, Tammy, told us about an innovative ice cream scooper with anti-freeze in the handle and as we were browsing at Crate N Barrel for the nth time, we saw it!  We knew we were holding onto those gift cards for a reason!

We purchased it and we have been absolutely infatuated!  Except guess what.. this is the real thing!  For anyone who is a true ice cream lover, this is a MUST BUY!  We have ice cream almost every night in this household... and it used to be more of a hassle (though never a real hassle when it's for something you love this much) to dip your scooper into hot water first or wait for the ice cream to melt..... but these days.... we scoop ice cream in seconds!  Nanoseconds even!  I am constantly amazed that the ice cream is so soft when I'm scooping it up - as if it had been sitting out for minutes!!!

What did we do without our anti-freeze Crate N Barrel fancy scooper?!  I don't even want to imagine it.  Now... all we need are real ice cream bowls so we stop filling our entire big cereal bowl.

First Birthday Party for Me!

My lil one (and only one thus far) is turning one in a couple of months and I have been trying to decide if I have the time and energy to plan an elaborate and over the top celebration to commemorate a year of life.  While contemplating back and forth about the size, time and funds that would be required, I told Andy, "I can't decide if I should do it.. on one hand, he won't remember anything and it makes more sense to dedicate any effort to his second year of life, on the other hand, who knows how far we'll be from family next year?"  After listening to me vacillate for a few days, Andy finally posed the question, "Well, is the party for you or for him?" to which I, without hesitation, responded, "Duh, for me!"

No baby remembers their first birthday right?  The only reminders are photos and videos.  Yet those same photos and videos can trigger actual memories for a two or three year old (I attest to remembering the details of my second birthday whether or not you believe me).  So why put forth the time and energy into that first birthday?  What's the big deal?  I wish I knew, because I am still trying to logically determine what I will do.. how I will do it.. and what that means in terms of money and time, two things we have very little of these days.

You see, try as I might to logically reason with myself.. it is a big deal.  And though I don't plan to go over the top with details or themes, there is a part of me that wants to try.  For one, my baby, my husband and I all made it.  Maybe that's not a big deal for anyone else, but the number of times I've questioned if Jordan's still breathing, the worries I've had over SIDS, and the debate to not have bumpers but maybe have some blankets in the crib (against all SIDS prevention team advice) or the fear of permanently damaging his bum from diaper rashes galore all make his one year milestone monumental.  I have kept him alive for a year.  From here on out, it's probably all downhill.  So why not savor the moment by throwing an egregiously expensive celebration for my little one?

When logic escapes us (okay.. me), family rescues us.  We have two upcoming family trips - one with my mom's extended side of the family, and one with Andy's immediate family.  The first trip is a month before Jordan turns one, but my dad, in a moment of exuberant joy recently, declared he would fund his first grandson's one year birthday party and "zhua zhou."  The "zhua zhou" is an ancient Chinese tradition of putting a few symbolic items in front of Jordan for his choosing.  His selected item is supposed to predict his future interests, career, and/or personality traits.  It is all in good fun and we in no way believe it will establish his future path (he has the freedom to make his own choices), but it's one of those things my family does while celebrating a one year birthday.  Nobody remembers what the child picked years later, but it's a fun activity nevertheless.  The second trip is on Jordan's actual birthday where he will get to celebrate it a few days after his Aunt Tammy turns 30, in our country's capital!  So either way... the family part of the equation is taken care of.

After all that fun has been had, I would like to throw a casual park celebration with all the other kids and friends we've made before we leave for residency (*gulp, Match Day is in a week!), so we may buy a cake, some bubbles, and head to the park for a third birthday party.  As for the cuteness that could be had with the new Photoshop I just got for Christmas from my in-laws... that might be put on hold.  Or not...

For My Future Daughter: Don't Be Pretty

My baby cousin is all grown up.  Well, maybe not - but she's entering high school next year and just got e-mail and gchat (no facebook yet and she just barely got a phone, she's pretty busy with basketball, piano, and tutoring... go Tiger Aunt!).  Since I'm always on gchat, she'll message me from time to time and we have fun conversations where I try to give her advice.

Me: UCLA is good but smaller schools like CMC mean less classes.  All my friends at UCLA had to take class and lecture.  My biggest class was maybe 20 people.  At big schools, the TA teaches a lot.  And, if you're pretty and not that smart (like some people I knew), and the TA likes you, he will give you all the answers to tests and that is not cool for everyone else.
My Cousin: So you're saying be pretty?
Me: No, don't be pretty.  Pretty doesn't last.  Smart does.  Be smart.  Just be pretty when you need to be.  Actually, hopefully nobody will think you're pretty (except for your family) until you're in college.
My Cousin: ok haha yea true true
Me: the prettiest girls I grew up with were also the meanest.  And none of them are married yet.  Who's laughing now?  HAHAHAHA umm... me.
My Cousin: wow it happens in movies too.  pretty = mean

I'm not sure if that was the right thing to teach her... but if it keeps her away from boys and keeps her focused on college and everything good... I'm okay by that.  And I know there are a lot of Mormon girls who are really pretty and nice (at least from their mother's blogs, that's how it seems), but my high school was more like Mean Girls.  Petty.  Silly.  Competitive.  Vindictive.  Manipulative.  Mean.  Ugly on the inside.

Oh, and there was also the constant threat of getting your butt kicked by the pretty girls (one I experienced first hand many times... yes, I hid behind the dressing room in Contempo Casual, scared for my life as one of the girls who wanted to fight me was spotted at the mall).  Don't get me wrong, I had an awesome high school experience (after the mean girls who wanted to beat me up left me alone after freshman year).. but do I want to go back? Heck no!  Do I want to relive it?  Never in a million years!  I know most of it probably had to do with my own insecurities then, but it was still not a fun time.

I kind of feel the same way about my 20's.  In fact, the closer I get to 30, the happier I am to be where I am now.  Here is good.  Almost 30 is good.  Much better than 20.  I am still muddled by the materialistic and rather superficial things from time to time.. the coveting I try to minimize (my poor husband always has to hear me tell him how nice everyone else's house and inside set-up is)... the obsession with my hair (it's too flat.. I wish I could perm it... but my mom would kill me, even at almost 30... err), clothes (it doesn't fit! it's too tight, it's too loose.. UGH!) or why I can't be as trendy as that mom and her cute kid... but those thoughts are fleeting and aren't all I obsess about.  No, there's too much to worry about with baby, work, cooking, cleaning, volunteering, etc.  The only thing I'd like is my 20 year old metabolism.  No scratch that.... my 16 year old one is better.  Yes, I'd like that back please.

Strong Work Son

One of Jordan's tricks... apparently it's a reflex per Andy, but it impresses me nevertheless.  

We went to the park today after Jordan had a THREE HOUR nap.  It was glorious.  I slept for an hour and when I woke up, he was STILL sleeping.  

 You so silly Jordan...!

I like this face.... don't kiss me mum.  

Crazy face!

Perfect pose...

ahhh.. I want that phone!

 could I eat it?...

 hmmm..