Change It Up!

One of my all-time favorite Disney movies is the Mighty Ducks series with Emilio Estevez (who Paula Abdul proposed to with her song Will You Marry Me Boy?....bet you didn't know that!) and one of my favorite lines from the movie is in the second one, when Michele, the team's teacher, is passing as the Coach since Coach Bombay fails to show up. Unaware of how to switch players who look fatigued, she finally figures it out and screams, "Change it up!"

That's precisely what I was thinking to myself this afternoon as I washed the dishes with our tattered scrub and sponge in one. I'll admit, I don't boil the sponges as much as I should (maybe twice in the last 5 months?) and I just learned you can microwave it for a minute after ringing it as dry as possible for the same objective of disposing bacteria in it. But really, like toothbrushes that are recommended to be changed once every three months, I should change it up.

This made me think about other things we should change up to keep 'em so fresh and so clean. I thought about my scripture study lately, which has been surprisingly attentive and uplifting. Part of it is because I'm over the first trimester constant exhaustion, but more importantly, I've devised a way to keep myself interested in what I'm actually studying! I am actually seeking to study more than to read, which unfortunately, is what I used to do. While reading before, I would often nod off and forget what I was reading and read until I got to my time goal, but now that I'm more focused on the end goal of what I'm studying for or trying to figure out, I have been more positive and always left feeling like I learned something.

Another example is cooking! Okay, okay, truth be told, I'm not exactly the best wife when it comes to cooking (and I only just you tubed how to properly dice an onion...and have yet to try it out!) . But with so many examples all around me, how could I not try to be better? So inspired by everyone who does cook and does plan their weekly menu (you know who you are), I have begun doing so myself. As I do that, I have noticed it's important to change it up from week to week. We can't just have the same food Monday through Friday every week, as tempting and easy as that makes my life, I have to strive for more so we keep it fresh. That doesn't mean we don't visit our favorites often... because truth be told, we love our sloppy Joe's and pizza...and whenever Cafe Rio is in the house (hehe), we eat it all week long!!

I guess changing it up is good if we do it with the intention of keeping ourselves on our toes, remembering to change it to help ourselves. On the flipside, I won't stop going to my favorite Thai restaurant just because I want to change it up, but I might be more open to trying some new places from time to time. However, if they all pale in comparison, I know where to go for some good Thai food. Can you tell I'm hungry? I guess it's time to change it up, from the couch to the kitchen for some snacks before dinner. Miam! (that's yum in French in case you didn't already know).

Changing it up!

Things That Matter Most

When I was single, my weekdays were filled with important decision making. I could either go out with friends for dinner on the town or go work out and grab dinner on my own. I would entertain the former every now and then (definitely for birthdays or other special celebratory occasions) but I was drawn to the latter for what it offered me. Endorphins from working out and a healthier meal which overall, made me feel better.

While in San Jose, though only 45 minutes from the BFF, we always hung out on weekends which normally included a trip to Trader Joe's for some flaxseed veggie chips and hummus, a sleepover watching crime drama shows, talking about life in general, falling asleep around 11, and then waking up to a Dailey Method class, a trip to the nearby (20 minutes away) Equinox for some cardio, a shower in the uber classy and clean gym facilities followed by lunch at Santana Row and some shopping! It was wonderful. Very simple, routine and fulfilling. We began to feel more adult like as our conversations turned away from that which was happening in Us Weekly and we abandoned our former ways of standing in a grocery store's magazine aisle for hours reading Entertainment trash and instead browsed the stores beyond our means (though we didn't buy, the store personnel actually greeted us as if we were real potential buyers!). We talked about how we barely had time to follow the Media these days, and bonded on our search for the perfect job and what that would be, and how we would depart from our Corporate America jobs which we had been doing since graduating from college. At night, Grace would return to the City to see her boyfriend and I would retreat to my humble Corporate apartment to eat dinner alone and watch some TV. On occasion, I would go out with the co-workers but I never had as much fun as I did with Grace, and fatigued from the day's events, I soon began politely declining invitations to go out with other friends.

Such is life now that I'm married. We have things that we prioritize each week such as eating dinner together every night possible (outside of Andy's call days or late work nights for me), Monday family home evening, Church meetings every Tuesday, a Friday date night that includes dinner out and a trip to the Westside, Church on Sundays, near daily working out, daily scripture study and a daily early retreat to bed (except for the weekend, we sometimes stay up until 12 AM on those days!) which means there isn't really time for anything else. We make exceptions (for BYU basketball games, work related recruiting events, visits, family dinners out, etc.) but usually, only if they happen to fall on the two days we don't have regularly set plans or if we can squeeze 'em into our existing planned days.

That being said, our schedule makes it difficult to plan for anything else and lately I've been mulling on it. True, our schedule includes things that matters most and I have seen nothing but good come from it as I am consistently fulfilled by the simple and important things, even if it is routine and lends little to no room for alternative options BUT, life will change when Baby J joins us... and then what?! I mean, if Andy isn't around, who will watch the baby while I shower or wash the dishes or work out? My daily reminders from my subscriptions to the What to Expect, Daily Kick, and The Bump newsletters do not speak to such things! I've been asking other moms of their experiences, and it all varies. Everybody does it a bit differently, so as it turns out, we must be flexible in adapting, not be so set in our ways that we stubbornly fail to see the joy and simplicity of changing up a routine for the better. I suppose as long as the things that matter most are still the foundation of our lives, it won't be so bad. Still, my paranoid self likes to "plan" and sometimes you just can't plan for everything. You can only hope that the things that matter most are so embedded in your lives that they are the support you need to shield you from whatever comes your way. So until then, I guess I can only stick to that and have faith that the Lord will take care of the rest.

Does That Make Me a Bad Mother?

Everyone gets really excited about a nursery. I am so excited for our baby, for our future family and for the countless hours of sleep I will soon be missing but swear it matters not because my life without the baby is unimaginable.... but a nursery??... that I am not! Instead, I dream about a work out room, complete with a mirrored wall, an elliptical machine, a treadmill, some colorful yoga balls, exercise balls, a bosu ball, a ballet bar, and some free weights, maybe even a television in the corner to keep me company as I work out. Pure bliss.

I know it's part of preparing for the baby.. but besides a changing table, a crib, some cute LIGHTWEIGHT stuff to hang on the wall (because earthquakes and dropping frames in the baby room are no bueno), and some storage bins for the clothing (because I like to put things inside of boxes and those boxes inside of more boxes and I'm not a fan of clutter), my thoughts turn to directing that energy towards decorating a cute young boy's room when he's old enough to enjoy it. Will he like cars, motorcycles, trains, sports or comic books enough to decide that is the theme his bedsheets, rugs, and posters will be? Will there be a "I want to go on a mission someday" framed on the wall along with photos of our family? Or will there be clay imprints of his hand and a wall marking how tall he is every year? Those are the exciting thoughts I have when it comes to decorating his room.... but a nursery... bleh. Double bleh.

We had thought about painting the walls (because white is so dull), but now I'm over it because we'd have to figure out when I could be out of the house, etc. and I want to do it myself! Plus, the current framed Sports Illustrated magazine covers look pretty nice on the wall for a boy, right? Maybe we'll change one of 'em to the feature that will be done on Jimmer! Our first real obstacle is to move the current desks and bookshelves into the guest room (we are sooo lucky for the extra space we have in our very subsidized living space) and we have a couch that someone can chill on while they feed the baby (that would be me!) that would go perfectly with dark wooded furniture. The other obstacle is getting it. My mom has offered to cover the costs but I still have to find time to go pick it out myself and get reimbursed for it... and that sounds like a lot of work I'd rather put off. But then... when I get too large... I'll be in trouble. Nursery, you are my enemy today. Fitness room, you are my dream for tomorrow. I hope that doesn't make me a bad mother before my baby even arrives!

Something Other Than Gas

As of today, I am officially 24 weeks and 1 day prego.

Update: I can still see my toes, I can still work out (with modifications for any exercises on my back) and I can still say the nausea has not returned! My legs are swollen, normal pants are now uncomfortable to sport (I have one pair of prego jeans, a lot of dresses and make use of my stretchy gym pants often), I have gotten one bad calve cramp (hopefully not more!) overnight, my bathroom trips are down to two during the night (at one point it was three or four!), and it is increasingly harder to get out of bed using my abs - instead I just roll over to my left (sad story).

I'm beginning to feel the baby's kicks more and more, and Andy's felt it from the outside too! His first kick was on Christmas morning but since I hadn't felt it before, I wasn't confident it was him. It feels like little spurts of gas or as my sister-in-law analogized from someone she once heard, as if you were in a pool and someone swam or walked by you leaving you ripples in the water, only inside of you! It's crazy that there is a form of life inside of me... something other than gas. Just plain crazy!

Here's a photo update of the bump - part deux!


The baby is definitely getting larger! Photos don't really say much, just take my word that everyone is telling me, "Ohhhhh you're pregnant?!" or... "When are you due?!"....

The Weird Things We Do

When I was finally old enough to use the bathroom on my own, I would often spend a long time washing my hands. I was mesmerized with the soap. I would lather my hands so much that if I clenched my fingers together in a prayer like gesture, and then slowly released my thumbs and pointer finger carefully, I could create a HUGE bubble and then just stare at the rainbow of colors swirling around. I would pop the bubble by bringing my fingers too far apart, start over and make another bubble. It absolutely fascinated me.

Likewise, I would get a bottle of Elmer's white school glue, put a big blob of it on my hand and just wait patiently. If I waited long enough for it to dry, I could peel it off carefully and somehow, this was entertainment to me. I did it over and over again, always looking forward to the dry glue I'd get to peel off.

At work, I often mutter to myself outloud. Those who have worked with me long enough know this and make a note of it to the more novice team members around. "She just talks to herself every now and then," one staff assured the other. I guess I do... just never realized it. I do the same thing when I'm on my own grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning,, etc. One might observe me from afar and think I have an imaginary friend or something along those lines.

So it leads me to wonder... what will my kid be like? Will he also pick up my weird ways or will he come up with his own?

Isn't it interesting that we're all created with so many different talents, challenges, and situations... yet ultimately, we are all loved the same, regardless of how different we are? How sweet it is to have a loving Heavenly Father who does not think of the weird things we do, but instead looks to our efforts as well as our works.

I hope I am able to remember that when future kids do some weird things. They may pick up on some of my habits.. or Andy's... or the rest of the family. Who knows?! Oh well, it's just the weird things we do that make us who we are. And really, they aren't that weird after all.

The Asian Drying Rack

I first learned how to use a dishwasher a few years ago when I was living in San Jose for a short term assignment in my own sweet Corporate living space. The sad thing about that? Not only was I in my mid 20's, but my best friend, who had also learned a few years earlier, had to teach me. You see, growing up, both of us came from Asian families who rarely used the dishwasher the proper way - to clean dishes. Instead, it was a very appropriate and large drying rack - to dry dishes already washed, used daily and only used the way it was intended for special occasions (think large parties with many guests and no paperware).

These days, I have begun to understand why that practice is actually useful. With only two of us in the family, using the dishwasher means waiting almost a week before it's full. Meanwhile, we are without certain utensils and drinking glasses, and after a few breakfasts, most bowls. So recently, I've concluded the Asian drying rack is back in our house and have been using it to dry things. The only exception for the dishwasher is when we have guests over and a lot of dishes are loaded into the dishwasher at once.

Doesn't it just tickle you funny that old tricks can become new ones? That things we once knew, but maybe did not think much about, can emerge as you naturally realize it just makes sense? That is how the Gospel is to me. It's as if I have always felt a closeness to God and Jesus Christ but never really knew why. It's as if I have always known what is right and what is wrong but of course, can justify either or. It's as if I have always known life had more purpose than eat, drink and be merry but wasn't sure if I wanted to accept that. It's as if I knew I once lived with Heavenly Father, but acknowledging it would mean so much more responsibility than before. It's as if the Gospel and everything it stands for was just a reflection on a mirror standing right before me... but a mirror just a little dusty and grimy, one I had to polish before seeing clearly. But the reflection was always there... I just couldn't see it completely until now. So I suppose it's not really as if, but it actually is indeed.

Nightmare in Atlanta

Sometimes, we think the Spirit is talking to us. Most times, we are unsure if it's the Spirit or ourselves. Sometimes, we should listen more closely. Most times, we only recognize it was the Spirit afterwards.

Yesterday, I had a flight at 2:20 PM from Los Angeles to Atlanta for a two day training, instructing on the new database the Firm uses. Upon remembering part of my weekend would be spent travelling, I was ridden with disappointment. Since Andy is on a new rotation, he had only one day off per week and luckily for us, it lands on a Sunday for the entire 6 weeks. A red eye flight was out of the question since Atlanta was so far east and I was instructing versus participating.

So after two hours of Church on Sunday, Andy and I begrudgingly returned home to grab my stuff and head to the airport. While in the car, I noticed a flurry of emails from the other instructors noting a bunch of flights had been cancelled flying out to Atlanta. Hopeful that my flight might also be cancelled, I checked when we got home and sadly, it was still on time. We googled Atlanta weather and cancelled flights, noting due to severe weather a lot of flights had been delayed or cancelled....but apparently, not mine! So off we went to the airport and along the way, I kept calling the Delta helpline, asking if the flight "might" get cancelled. Success was not mine.

Once at the airport, I just had a bad feeling - a gut instinct you could say. Angry passengers ubiquitously filled the waiting areas complaining loudly about their cancelled flights and current ongoing attempts to get onto another flight. I sat there, still hanging on to the hope that my flight might get cancelled and that I might be able to spend the rest of Sunday at home with Andy. Again, to no avail, the flight continued to show as "on time." Simultaneously, the baby was going insane inside with kicks. He just kept kicking me! I tried to find a secluded seat and pray for help, for any guidance on whether I should just go home or wait to take the potential flight. I justified that if not all the learners or instructors arrived in Atlanta, then I might not be needed. I then justified that if the training was delayed for any reason, there was no way I could extend my travels to Wednesday. I paced around the airport, texted Andy with updates and got my hopes up when they changed us to another gate without a plane. In a few minutes, they clarified that we were still at the same gate and before I knew it, our flight was boarding.

Once on board, the flight attendants made a pregnant girl cry. They told her that her purple bag should be taken up the aisle (where passengers were still boarding) to find more overhead space, and then upon not finding any, they asked her for her seat ticket which was all the way back at her seat about 5 aisles from the last row. Frustrated and on the verge of tears, she marched back to her seat to get the ticket, brought it back to the flight attendant at the front of the plane, outraged by why a silly ticket was needed to check her bag! The flight attendant apologized but confirmed it was just procedure but the pregnant girl stormed back to her seat, and tears burst out. It wasn't fair! First, she had to travel on a Sunday, next her flight didn't get cancelled, and now, the stupid flight attendant took her bag and she would have to pick it up at the baggage claim. What was the point of packing light?!

After I calmed down from the hormonal uproar, I felt bad for the girl sitting next to me who just watched me cry unceasingly for about 10 minutes during takeoff.

During the flight, something with the main cabinet electronics went wrong and the sound and screen went out. This was not a good sign, in fact it was an omen of what was to happen. We landed safely, but my adventure had just begun. Luckily, another co-instructor was on the same flight, because had he not been, I am unsure where I would have spent the night.

We received word from the other instructors who had landed earlier that there were no longer anymore taxis on the street. We obtained my luggage, headed for the MARTA (Atlanta's public transportation train station) and waited for a train in the cold. Then, the train came and we got on. But then the train stopped and we waited for 10 minutes before we were told to get off. Then, we waited in the cold again for another 15 minutes until another train came. Then, we got onto the train to our transfer station and then we waited another 10 minutes. Then, when we finally got to our exit.... the fun really began. Imagine a street of all white snow and some mere footsteps and two lines on the floor where our luggage was being pulled. That was us for two blocks... it seemed so close, yet so far... and yet more white and more white. I can't imagine how the pioneers did it - I walked two blocks and my fingers were frozen when we finally arrived and I thought I would get frostbite (yes, I'm paranoid).

I knew I shouldn't have come to Atlanta! My nightmare in Atlanta might have been avoided had I listened more closely to the Spirit, except I couldn't quite distinguish what was the Spirit and what was me making excuses not to go. Oddly enough, I don't think it mattered much because when I didn't feel the Spirit confirm to me that I should leave and go home, it was still safe because at least I had the co-worker to lead me to the hotel. Had he not been on my flight, I'm unsure where I would have ended up or if I would have known what to do once the taxis were not available! So I guess my nightmare in Atlanta wasn't THAT bad. Although, once at the hotel, I didn't sleep well either. So I guess that's when the real nightmare happened because 5 hours later, I am teaching a class of 54 with 3 other instructors and I am kind of tired. Just slightly.