Report Card Time

I've come to realize this motherhood and housekeeper thing (the two are distinctively different!) can be very defeating at times. And that's why I need to motivate myself with a report card (yes I was a goodie two shoe with straight A's until high school... those occasional B's really humbled me)!

When it comes to motherhood, I have for the most part, felt pretty good about it. I know I can't communicate with Jordan yet but he usually smiles if I gawk at him and usually is quite happy when I sing, read, or make funny faces at him. He seems to recognize my voice and I am the source of all food thus far... so no complaints right? Wrong...! It's when he has a rare occurrence of - I'm not happy no matter what you do - that really throws me off. When he's smiling one moment and projectile vomiting the next, leaving me without a towel or idea of how to clean it up with the least amount of potential damage. Or when he's not hungry but doesn't want to play and is still crying (we think teething but that could just be our excuse for not knowing how to appease him!) and he doesn't want to be put down either! Oh boy. The normal thoughts that occur at this point are ... what have I gotten myself into and how will I make it with more than one child?! and of course is it normal to still be in my jammies at 10 AM without brushing my teeth or putting on my contacts yet? interrupted by man am I hungry.. if only I could sneak away and get a bite to eat! If I gave myself a report card for motherhood, it would have a lot of suggestions for improvement but I would tell myself that staying positive is half the battle which I've managed to do so far by finding the joy and humor in everything, even the poop and the puke (I think I prefer poop.. the smell goes away after being wiped, as for the puke... it kinda lingers.... do you have to, do you have to let it linger.....Cranberries anyone?)

When it comes to housekeeping, I feel pretty good about it IF - OPERATIVE WORD - IF I have time but the whole motherhood thing really puts a kink in my routine for housekeeping. I'm normally loads behind (pun?) in laundry washing and folding (someone really needs to invent a machine that does that for you already and go on Shark Tank!), my sink never has room to refill my Brita and when I do attempt to clear it, I find myself stepping in my own self created puddles of dirty dishwater that has somehow managed to find its way to the floor, our living room is already overflowing with toys (I know he's a baby, but yes, he already has toys!), not to mention the pile of junk mail I have to sort through to find the real mail (if I get another credit card invitation because I've been pre-approved yet again.... ugh) that is a constant centerpiece on our dining table and the bathrooms that are still not getting their normal bi-weekly clean-up! If I gave myself a report card for housekeeping, it would say .... "prioritize and definitely needs improvement!"

Maybe I'm too harsh on myself (and maybe I'm fishing for some compliments while I'm at it...), but this whole self imposed report card consideration has got me thinking more and more that I should in fact give myself a periodic review. I got one in the workplace (which btw, is so much easier than this motherhood and housekeeping thing, hands down without a doubt!) and I was able to find ways to improve and was rewarded for it through both positive affirmation from co-workers and superiors as well as compensation, so why shouldn't I give myself one now that this is my full time job? Just because I chose to be a mother, doesn't mean I'm not held to any standard and should be working towards being more efficient and effective (key phrases from the work world). So I decided to do that. And I also decided to give myself a little reward if I do well and do find myself getting better at accomplishing what seems like way too much in way too little time.

I know Jordan sometimes spontaneously vomits... what can I do to ensure the victims (him, me, the couches, the carpet, anything in his path at the time of vomit) are safe? The answer... more towels! Towels here, towels there, towels everywhere! I know Jordan only sleeps for an hour to two for naptime durign the day, so how can I maximize these spurts of time and finish my housekeeping chores? Good-bye Facebook, good-bye Pinterest, that will do, good-bye to you! With the time I waste on you, I could be doing so much more - it's true!

Alas, report card in my life to stay. Report card in my life today.

Report card time!

You Know You're Old When...

Our cousins (Kristy and Kylie, ages 13 and 17) have never seen or even heard of Clueless. To add insult to injury, after I popped in the DVD to have 'em watch it so I could enjoy it in the background while I'm online, the first commentary I heard was "That's such an ugly outfit!" I had to immediately turn around and advise 'em that everyone (including myself) had one of those plaid skirts and knee-highs with Mary Jane's. Whatever... as if, I'm totally like old now, totally buggin'.

We Ain't Getting Any Younger

Meet Kristy and Kylie, our cousins from Andy's side of the family, ages 17 and 13, respectively. Kristy and Kylie love shopping, playing with Jordan, cooking and cleaning (for a reward of fro-yo, who wouldn't?!) and whatever else their sweet cousins (mostly me) suggest.

At first I was intimidated as I was unsure how we would pass the time with two teenagers for ten days, and even more frightened by the fact that we would pale in comparison to the awesome time they had at Tammy's last summer as that trip included lots of restaurants, theme parks, touristy fun stuff and two little girls to nanny. But once they were here, my fears quickly subsided as I elated with joy in the upside of having help and company around and so far, I think (think being the operative word) they are having a good time as well. It actually reminds me of why I want a big family - it's so much more fun with more people around although, I think I'm going to be a bossy mom... haha. I mean, I TRY not to be bossy, but I definitely am not shy about suggesting how we should approach certain things, about asking for help and about waking them up to get the day started (the first couple of days they were here and we got ready for bed at 10 PM, they asked what they were supposed to do now because they usually sleep at 1 AM, 2 AM or 3 AM - but lately, they've been exhausted and turning in at 10 PM, 11 PM and 12 AM- not 1 2 or 3 AM!)

The girls are easily amused with shopping trips and they laugh at almost everything Andy and I say (we're not that funny though.. really...), making us feel quite good about ourselves. We've spent a lot of good quality time teaching them how to play new board games (Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride European version), wasting time on the WII with Super Mario Bros. and comparing our brain capacities with Big Brain Academy, going through Preach My Gospel together for family scripture study, watching movies, swimming in our complex, going on adventures (Korean BBQ, Venice Canals, Manhattan Beach), shopping, eating, and just hanging out. Along the way, it is more and more evident that Andy and I are not getting any younger.

The first indication: In the car, we were educated on the various types of cars one can spot while driving, call out, and punch the other. I only knew of punch buggie, out of state and personalized license plates, but there is a litany of things to call out now. We were advised so matter of factly that all we could do was laugh in response, not even processing what they said but laughing at how ridiculous the game had morphed for this new generation.

The second indication: Sunday afternoon, we were enjoying food with some friends at a Church Break the Fast (we fast once a month and a nice family from Church puts on a huge potluck after the day of fasting - loads of fun and tons of good grub) and exchanging advice on babies with some of the other families who are with child or expecting. As we talked about how tiring it gets to wake up and feed your baby multiple times throughout the night, I mentioned how I had moved the diaper changing pad into my bedroom for an easier walk late at night (Jordan still sleeps in the pack n play in our room for now). Kristy laughed and called me lazy, but quickly rescinded the comment and explained that she could relate since she had a mechanical baby before. . ...

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Seriously?!

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Yes, I said mechanical baby. Remember egg babies? Well, the year of sixth graders above us started to fry their eggs on school property so when I got to sixth grade, we had orange babies. We treated those oranges like our babies until school was out, then left them in a corner until school the next day (except BFF and I took our assignments pretty seriously, when we went to taekwondo class, we advised Master that we had to leave our orange babies at the front of class or it would be neglect and he laughed and said ok... sure we were silly little kids asking if we could put our oranges, safely nestled in the carriers we had created up by the mirrors in the studio). Well apparently, eggs or oranges are not an option anymore, now - they have mechanical babies!

These mechanical babies, as Kristy so kindly informed us, did not interrupt you during the day, but immediately after school, within 15 minutes, the mechanical baby was programmed to wake up, cry if not fed or changed, and required constant supervision. This included night time feedings and all the fatigue that comes with having a baby. I can appreciate technology discouraging teen pregnancy this way but I'm quite glad we didn't have that growing up.

The third indication: We write letters on Sundays and accordingly, Kristy and Kylie joined us. I jokingly asked if they knew how to address an envelope to which Kristy replied "not really... no, why would we need to? We have phones and facebook." Kylie, on the other hand, thought really carefully and hard before answering in "the to address goes in the middle and the return address is in the upper left corner?" I poked fun of her, asking her if she had learned that at school. She said yes and I asked if it was in History class and she told me it was in English class. I guess she didn't get the joke. Later, while I was feeding Jordan, I asked Kristy to please put the stamps on the letters to mail out and she asked me if the stamps went in the upper right corner before she did so.

Those are the first that come to mind, but the reality is we're not getting younger, but how could we be when our tiny tiny baby is now a big big baby?

At only three months, he is in the 90% for weight and height at 14 lbs 5 oz and 25 1/4" and a little more behind in head size with 75% at 42 cm.

It's amazing how quickly he's learning more with each day. He now sleeps from 10 PM - 7 AM (though I sometimes wake him up to feed at 6 AM), still won't take the bottle, loves tummy time, has better head control, grabs a lot more (of clothes and hair - lots of Kristy and Kylie hair, but still won't go after toys or the teething giraffe), is drooling a lot, learned to suck on his entire fist, likes to lick his seatbelts, prefers being held, will have spurts of talking in coos, is fascinated with green trees, smiles a lot more, and is fitting into his clothes from 6, 9 and even 12 months! Ah!!! Big baby!!

his blessing outfit that Nama made.... doesn't button in the back anymore!

but still fits nicely otherwise, and looks good in photos (his feet didn't fit the matching booties since he was a month old so I didn't bother at three months...sad)

Everything Is Cuter!

Lately, I've noticed Andy and I both tend to shorten, double up or rhyme our words with Jordan. It seems we think doing so makes us more baby appropriate.

Case in point: Let's go change your "diap-diap!"

Another example: You're just the "cutest-wutest!"

And another: Do you want to "eat-eat" now?

If you haven't had a baby yet, just you wait - I swear it's more natural when you're the parent just like it's more obnoxious when you're not.

At Long Last!

My mom loves re-telling the story about my obsession with "aye-shui" when I was still learning how to talk. I would alway beg for "aye-shui" which was confused as water since "shui" (think feng-shui) but when water was brought to me, I would continue to cry and ask for "aye-shui." Finally, upon taking me to the land of pink dots, pink spoons and 31 fantastic flavors to choose from, I exclaimed with joy and said "aye-shui!" That was when they got my muddled disoriented demands as ice cream.

I've never had a favorite ice cream flavor. There are just too many that I love. Among my favorites are rainbow sherbert (cuz it's rainbow, do I need to say more?), bubble gum (because there's bubble gum in it and only select places would sell it, but it's kinda gross now that I think about it), cookies n cream, cheesecake, black cherry and mint n chip, BUT... yes, there's a but, BUT I would only eat mint n chip if it was from Thrifty because everywhere else had chips that were too big and distracted me from the ice cream itself.

I thought I had a new favorite ice cream flavor last year... a discovery of pineapple and coconut together in one fantastic swirl of wonderfulness, also from Thrifty. But just recently, Andy and I discovered my NEW and NOW favorite ice cream flavor.

Get ready for it. It's legend... are you lactose intolerant? ... dairy!!!

Lemonhead! Oh my my.. how do I even begin to describe it? It's a bit tart but not too much, a bit creamy but not too much.. a mix between sorbet and ice cream with pixie dust lemonhead pieces.. oh, just magical I tell you!

Lucky me that my husband loves ice cream every bit as much as I do because Rite-Aid (the only place I know that sells Thrifty but who knows... wonder if the El Monte Thrifty factory has tours...) has 2 1.75qts for $5 or 2 for $6 (I know, I often wonder how many I should get when they are 2 for $5) and last week, after we finished our first ever Lemonhead ice cream, we kept dwelling on how wonderful it was, hoping for more, as we lacklusterly got through the rest of Black Cherry. So this weekend, Andy came home with not one.. but two Lemonhead ice creams! Delicious. I seriously think about Lemonhead ice cream at least three times a day, excited for dessert at night! Miam I tell you!

So yours truly finally, at long last, has a favorite ice cream. Lemonhead, I declare you are my favorite ice cream ever!



Disclaimer: Thrifty did not compensate me in any shape, way or form to rave about their ice cream. They are, without a doubt, the best ice cream for the price, and if you buy it in the store (like my parents did for me as the past time for Laundromat days), it comes in a square scoop!

Chicken Soup for the Skin

My mom pays for me to have a facial once a month and she looks after Jordan while I am getting my face did. I went last week and had to endure half an hour of her and the other Chinese facial lady telling me I was losing the elasticity in my skin, gaining wrinkles faster than I knew, all due to the fact that my son was taking all my nutrients from my milk. Why wasn't I making the black chicken soup concoction my mother had supplied me with (I have four pieces of black chicken in the freezer, waiting to be made into soups to help reduce the appearance of wrinkles on my face) like I was supposed to as a good Chinese daughter?! I held it in. Are you letting yourself go so young? Still I resisted the urge to talk back. Didn't I know in less than a year, I'd be an old hag? The urge to scream, I DON'T BELIEVE YOU BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO EAT CERTAIN THINGS SO I WOULD HAVE MILK BUT YOU NEVER DID AND YOU HAD MILK AND ALL THE AUNTS TOLD ME TO AND WERE FASCINATED WHEN I HAD MILK BECAUSE THEY NEVER DID. Patience. Calmness. Tranquility. You can do it Daisy. Just. keep. calm.

It just doesn't make sense to me but it's a sore topic for my mother and me anytime she is giving me advice I don't quite buy.

She called me today (we talk almost once a day but sometimes our conversations are very short because I want to be patient and not get upset at her illogical assertions) and again asked if I was taking seriously the fact that I NEEDED to drink my chicken soup and then offered to buy my facial cleansing products if I had run out ... (her passive aggressive way of assuming I'm not using any when I in fact AM!) *sigh. So for lunch today, I waived a white flag and in my defeat, had soup. And some cheese and Ritz crackers. And a boiled egg with ketchup. But I definitely had the soup.

When Andy came home from work today, I told him, "I had chicken soup for lunch today" and he replied, "It shows, the wrinkles are gone now." Oh how he humors me.

I guess chicken soup is not good for just the soul, but for the skin as well.

Who Am I Kidding?

I love blogging way too much to stay away and I'm proud to report that my progress from my last post has been less facebook stalking and online time wasting, as a result, I am rewarding myself with a blog post.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the lactation consultant Nazis. If you haven't met them before either because you are sans kid or never went down the road of boob feeding, you are in for a treat! They vary in temperament and style but without a doubt, they all share the common mission objective of getting you to successfully boob feed your baby - no matter what the cost! They drill fears into your brain about nipple confusion and tell you it's painless if you're doing it right. They are liars!!!

To give credit where due, my first lactation consultant in the hospital was candid with the truth. She told me I needed to develop calluses for boob feeding, just like one would do on their fingers if they were learning to play the guitar (if you aren't sure what that means, try it - and then say hello to the pretty calluses you get on your fingertips). I guess it's just like lifting weights and wanting to use gloves (I do.. yes, even with my wimpy 10 pound weights) to avoid having nasty calluses. She advised me that once I got pass the rough part of growing calluses, I'd be okay.

Unfortunately, nobody ever told me about the fact that my baby might not take the bottle. I'd only heard the opposite, not to give my baby the bottle too soon in case he got confused and would only take the bottle. So far, I have not heard of any cases where this is a true story. Instead, there is an underground world of mothers who struggle to get their babies to take the bottle instead of the boob. One of the comments I got from my last post about such struggles was that said person fed her baby in the car over the carseat. Now this may sound ridiculous to you, but if you ever find yourself on a road trip, interrupted by frequent pit stops to feed and change your baby who won't take a bottle, you may also try it.

Guilty as charged. TMI maybe?

Sadly, the carseat got in the way and it only worked for about three minutes (apparently Andy timed it, hoping we could buy more time as we coasted on the highway from Arizona to California). It makes me laugh because that is what we have resorted ourselves to (I completely covered the windows on both sides) and although it is way too much information, I share it because I hope every person reading this who may become a mother in the future... who maybe considers boob feeding... who might not want to be chained to their baby because they are the only source of food.... who might want a break every now and then... who might want someone else to feed their baby once a day.... might realize that a bottle of boob milk a day, fed to your baby with a bottle, might not be such a bad idea, even while they are boob feeding! I wish somebody had told us that before. Maybe we'd be in a different predicament now.

Until then, we will keep praying and working on it.

Also happy to report that our physical therapy wannabe exercises which we learned from youtube (the internet is a wonderful thing if used correctly) have shown improvement in Jordan's neck. He seems to be looking left more often though he still prefers the right. We will keep at it! We are also sincerely asking Heavenly Father for his help everytime we pray. Our prayers are being answered as his cries seem to decrease with each subsequent exercise we do on his neck. Yay to diligently presevering and praying!

And... I thoroughly cleaned the bathrooms and did some laundry before we left for Arizona this past weekend to visit our friends (the Bluthes, yes we just saw them last weekend but we're on a Bluth high) and get Jordan's three month photos taken by our talented most likely will be a super expensive professional photographer in the near future Jenn. Of course when we came back last night, our house reeked of rotten garbage because of the food in the sink that didn't get sinkerator-ed and the few (less than 5!) dirty dishes I left. I quickly cometed, lime juiced and baking soda-ed that sucker but it still slightly stinks of leftover garbage that has been rotting for three days. Yeah, I'm not the best housewife... not yet at least, but I'm working on it and one day, I know, we will come back from vacation and our house won't stink. One day....