Oh... You're Right

My mom recently gave me two pounds of beef jerky - one for my sister-in-law, Tammy who came to visit this weekend. I just had five pieces for a mid-afternoon snack. Andy put the bag of jerky away for me, commenting that tonight was going to be interesting being in the same bed as me.

I was busy so I didn't pay much attention. He continued in his silly you can hear the grin and he probably looks way awkward turtle sort of thing. I turned around and asked why.

"You don't know that beef jerky gives you gas?" he asked....

"No it doesn't!" I exclaimed.

I've obviously never had that much beef jerky in one sitting. A few minutes later, as I saw on the couch browsing the internet with cooing from Jordan on his playmat nearby.... it started.

And after a few occurrences of such... I told Andy... "Oh... you're right!"

I am now going to a yoga class at my fancy gym. I really hope this class has music but being that it's yoga... highly unlikely. *gulp.

We Got Ourselves A Routine Folks!

It only took five months for me to finally establish and fall into a comfortable, effective and efficient (yes former auditor am I), yet flexible routine at home with Jordan. After many an exasperated sighs and regretfully defeated glances into a mirror, I grew tired of the miserable looking still in my pajamas at 11 AM without brushing my teeth and oh yeah, don't forget that nasty kink in my hair, when was the last time I washed it curiosity reflection that was none other than me, a new mom struggling to make it work.

Yet for the longest time, a routine felt inevitably prolonged especially with us taking off for vacation in Orlando for a week with Andy's family, another two weeks in Utah for one of Andy's routine, and then camping last weekend (which means a lot of sleeping in the pack n play for Jordan).

Alas, I'm happy to report the good news, the exciting news, the amazing news, is the following
1) one look from Jordan melted my heart and made me forget all my worries about the dirty sink, the dust covered furniture, the nasty bathrooms, the undone laundry, the unfinished projects, the unwritten e-mails, the errands to be run and the lists to be finished
2) despite having less time during the day to myself now that Jordan is constantly awake, the nights are much better and my sleep patterns have normalized to include sleep
3) I've learned that I can't do it all in a day, I shouldn't be a facebook stalker-holic, and I prioritize what I want on my list.
4) having a supportive husband makes you feel less of a failure when you report on your day and all you did was play with the baby and change 4 poopy diapers
5) my routine is not always so routine

One day out of the week, Jordan and I go to the grocery store.
One day out of the week, Jordan and I go visit my mom.
One day out of the week, we don't leave the house and I lounge in my PJs all day
One day out of the week, we vacuum, dust or clean the bathroom (normally not all of the above).
One day out of the week, we visit with friends.
And that's five days. Seems like nothing right? Yeah, just wait until you have a baby.

Things we do regularly include praying, scripture study, the dishes, laundry (it's more like every 2-3 days but frankly, it feels like everyday), making the bed, brushing my teeth and putting on my contacts (we add it to the list or else it never gets done), sending a "Daily Dose of Jordan" photo to a few choice family members, making dinner, playing Words with Friends, and the rest is engulfed with baby time - playing, singing, storytelling, diaper changing, stroller walks, etc. As for working out, I aim for 5 days a week and probably end up around 3 but with five pounds left to go, my pre-pregnancy weight goals before child #2 may actually be attainable!

Sometimes the impossible just doesn't seem possible. Everyone said - you'll adapt... you'll adjust... you'll get it. They were right.. it just takes time! So for the moms who are just starting off, or for the pregnant moms who have no clue how they will get there once the baby comes out and is not so easy to take everywhere, rest assured - if I can do it - so can you!

You may even have time to make up baby stories/songs:

That's not my baby, his hands are too small

That's not my baby, his head is not bald

That's not my baby, he poops a lot more

That's not my baby, that's not what he wore

That's not my baby, his eyes have no lids

That's not my baby, he's wearing a bib!

Thats' not my baby, his lips are too thin

That's not my baby, a cleft on the chin?!

That's not my baby, I'd know if he laughed

That's not my baby, that's what I just said!

Jordan and I made that up while we were driving yesterday. Twas much fun.

Full Circle

When I was a baby. I imagine my parents were my world. Jordan's recently been attempting to kiss us by taking a big bite towards our face - he only knows to open his mouth when confronted with our face and the word "kiss." We are his world. We change him... feed him... bathe him... take him everywhere with us... entertain him... sing to him... cuddle with him... sleep with him... and really, I suppose he has no choice in the matter.

When I was a toddler, I'm told I squealed with joy at any expression of love and was always trying to talk. I ran to my parents with open arms, joined them in song and conversation (attempted) and could not stop loving them more. I wanted to be them. I wanted to do what they did.

When I was a little older.. an adolescent, I asked why. And then I followed up any answer with another why. I enjoyed irritating my older cousins and parents by repeating everything they said, refused to play the "let's be quiet game," and didn't let out that I could now spell (because parents always spell out what they don't want you to know). I was told to stop talking back but I had not a clue what I did wrong. I liked using the phrase "I told you so!" with my hands on my hips, elbows perked at matching 45 degree angles, as if to add how much I really told 'em so!

When I was a tween, I rolled my eyes and got in trouble. I talked back and I got in trouble. I didn't play with my brother and I got in trouble. I didn't help out around the house and I got in trouble. I got in trouble a lot. Or so it felt.

When I was a teen, I just wanted to hang out with my friends. I learned what it mean to be grounded. My parents kept telling me how important college was, kept sending my to SAT classes, Chinese school and made me play the piano. I muttered under my breath a lot and felt like I knew more than my parents. Duh.

When I was in my 20's, I missed my parents. I hoped they would keep paying for me but I enjoyed being able to treat them to a meal with my real job. I wanted to make them proud but I hated when they nagged me. I wanted to know their opinion but I didn't want to let on that I did.

When I was in my late 20's, my parents became my friends. I could sometimes talk to them like adults now. But... they were still my parents.

When I had a kid, I realized for the first time - how much my parents actually did for me. As I am worrying about every odd breath out of my son's mouth and nose, I'm appreciating the efforts, the rules, the boundaries, the worrying and the love they incessantly showered me with (despite my rebelliously difficult times).

Funny how it comes full circle. I don't think my children will ever love me as much as I love them because I can't imagine the love I feel for Jordan being reciprocated. That is how much I love him!

Thirty Before 30

Turning 30 sucks, I don't care what anyone says about it - I don't care how positive you are about it, the truth of the matter is - it's that big milestone to remind you that your 20's, as miserable or as wonderful as they were, are OVER. Turning 16 was fun. Turning 18 was fun. Turning 21 was fun. Heck, turning 25 and having the right to rent a car was fun. But turning 30? Highly doubtful.

The only highlight of turning 30 is somewhere, I had a "Thirty Before 30" list. I can't seem to find it anymore so in the interest of turning 30 without a list, I've recreated one to hold myself accountable towards for the next year (I'm not 30 yet - thank goodness). So I thought to myself.. how do I construct a list that truly represents what I wanted to accomplish at 30 before I was a year away? In order to do that, I have to go back to the future (love the movie) and think of what I hoped to accomplish by 30 when I was oh - say 20. So here's my list along with commentary and what will shock you are the things that are on there, indicating what I hadn't done by the age of 20.

1. Get married - done!

2. Have kid(s)- done! one counts!

3. Buy a house - On hold after I married a student.

4. Decorate the newly purchased home - see 3 above

5. Go camping - Andy took me for the first time last year and we're going again this weekend!

6. Go to Europe, specifically Greece - cuz it's amazing and I really love Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (don't lie, you do too!)

7. Go skinny dipping - not sure if this will ever happen.. too risky for my likes but somehow I thought by 30 I might have the guts.

8. Learn how to sew - done, not well... but it just says learn.

9. Get my CPA - done after a brutal number of tries

10. Go on a cruise - pending

11. Go sailing - done

12. Go hiking - done

13. Go on a real vacation (Vegas does not count nor do training weekends before or after, nor do wedding weekends) - done...the honeymoon was my first real vacation (sad huh?)

14. Write a book - pending

15. Learn to cook - I'll say accomplished, it doesn't say learn to cook WELL, just learn to cook

16. Read Fountainhead - my college roommate did and I was so impressed... but never go around to it, the longest bookz I've ever read are A Prayer for Owen Meany (Simon Birch) and Harry Potter!

17. Stop biting my nails - not sure if this will happen

18. Go to a concert - (the Super Korean concert in tenth grade and the college concerts I got to go to for free as a resident assistant don't feel like they really count)

19. Get a six pack ... or a four pack, heck just a line down my stomach indicating I am somewhat ripped - don't think I'll ever accomplish this one

20. Go surfing - done, didn't get up on the board but trying counts

21. Get published - done page 46 anyone?

22. Learn to play the guitar - yeah, some things won't get crossed off my list

23. Run a 5k - done

24. Run a 10k - done

25. Run a half marathon - again, some things won't get crossed off my list cuz I'm over running

26. Do a pull-up - again, some things probably won't get crossed off my list... EVER!

27. Go to the Oscars - I thought I could go as a seat filler after two years with the Firm, but I only made it to the Emmys three times (and we left early the third time because we were a bit bored), guess it's a lost cause unless my brother makes it in the industry!

28. Do some meaningful philanthropic work - done through the Ronald McDonald Camp for Good Times and Philanthro and the Church

29. Learn to french braid - still trying

30. Do the splits - probably never going to happen

And there you have it - in no particular order. 15/30 .... 50% ain't half bad.

Secret Sigh of Relief

I got invited to my first "adult only" wedding ceremony (though to be fair, I'm sure there were ones in the past but being "single" or "plus one" only, I never really gave it much thought). At first, I was a bit taken back, thinking, how sophisticated of them to not want any cute kids at the ceremony and reception (like my own). But after giving it some thought, I let out a secret sigh of relief.

Given the timing, Jordan will be old enough to eat solids and we can get a reliable sitter to put him to bed and go off into the night, dancing, drinking (Shirley Temples and Apple Cider anyone?), and dining. It will be a devine adult date with just Andy and myself. Yes, the photos of Jordan in a tie grabbing at the dinnerware would have been cute. Yes, the photos of Jordan with his dressed up parents would also been adorable and one for the memory books. But the reality is, if the kids are unwanted at the ceremony and reception, then it's actually terrific and applaudable that they said so and made it clear (the groom has a super cute nephew, so it's really sadder for them than it is for us).

The smart soon to be newlyweds have openly avoided the kid who has a meltdown during the ceremony and in essence ruining their vows, the cliche Bible verses (but still very heartwarming), and beauty that goes with marriage.... the kids crying out loud (kids and timing, you know what I'm saying?) or the ones running around on the dance floor and in between the adult conversations happening.

So I guess it isn't so bad, and I'll be much happier when Jordan's first wedding is one where he is welcomed at - cries, tantrums, smiles, cooing, drooling and everything in between.

They Sure Grow Up Fast!

It's cliche to say this when my son is only four (almost five months - one more week!) months old, but I think it's especially apparent these first few years that my baby boy is growing up so fast.

The other day (Sept 14th), he sprouted a little white nub of a tooth in his gums. He had been drooling before then, more than usual, so we knew it was coming and yet we had not a clue what exactly that meant. Since then, we have quickly learned it means everything shoved directly into his mouth, exasperated and cute cries of frustration when the hand-eye coordination does not help him get whatever toy of the moment is in his hands into his mouth, immediate red marks on his face from toys that have hit him in the face instead of lodging itself into his mouth (he doesn't cry about this, but he also face planted quite a bit when he was beginning tummy time, years ago when he was oh, say two or three months old), and lots of random cries of pure pain only calmed by a bit of Baby Orajel and some immediate cuddling action paired with Wheels on the Bus singing (this part I love).

We attempted to get him acquainted with a bottle nipple during his teething .... I think we failed, notice his grimace.

The days of sleeping through the night are long gone since his teeth now consistently bother him. I figure he wakes up crying from the my teeth are growing aches and pains and subsequently realizes, oh, wait - I could eat! I've been there myself, sometimes waking up at 10 AM, missing breakfast and just moving onto brunch, and this has helped me to be understanding and patient. This plus the fact that his nighttime feedings are fairly quick these days, maybe 5-10 minutes (or so it feels) and I have stopped checking the phone to see what time it is.

He has also been testing this thing we call "sitting." He can sit on his own for a good 5 seconds before falling over, but he is enamored with it and will give you a cheesy gummy grin if you lift him up from lying on his back to sitting. The view is different and he seems just as amused as Mommy and Daddy by how long he can sit before falling over either directly on his face, on his side, or a combination of the two. That said, his time in the Bumbo is a lot more appreciated since he sits straight up in it (I have found that it helps if he is wearing something fitted and long so that the tightness of the restrictive clothing keeps him upright in the Bumbo, call me a cheat but it is better than straightening him every other minute).

On his way down...

Dog Gone Cute!

Lastly, though the back of his head has a prominent bald spot from his habit of turning his head right, then left, then right, then left again when he falls asleep, and though his eyebrows are just barely there, he has somehow managed to follow in yieyie's footsteps (my dad is one of few Asian men who can grow a full beard, mustache, and some...) and grown a mustache of his own! Babies these days, they sure grow up fast!

Hello, I am ESL

So I technically passed the assessment for ESL (English second language) in elementary school even though English was indeed my second language. I can still vividly remember going to Montessori when I was five for my first day at American school. Like a distant dream, I can see a cloud of white with two distinct figures as the camera focuses in... me pointing to my fuzzy Sanrio stickers on my 80's neon pink Jem lunchbox (I don't remember, so I made it up cuz Jem was so cool) while some round eyed little Caucasian girl with yellow hair pointed back at it. When she opened her mouth to speak, out came jibberish to which I nodded and thought in Mandarin, huh?

I would walk back home with my yeye who came to pick me up everyday after school, telling him about my day in my native tongue, Mandarin. I didn't realize I was different. I didn't realize I didn't speak the language. I was oblivious. Saturday morning cartoons (I wasn't allowed to watch TV from Monday - Friday after school) were recorded and re-watched over and over and somewhere along the way, I must have started speaking English. Broken English, tainted with bad grammar, incorrect tenses and made up words. It didn't matter. I was speaking Engrish.

When I started elementary school at Camino Grove in the middle of first grade, the other Asian Chinese kids I met would inform me of my horrible English, make fun of my use of "funner" (it's not a word Daisy!) and bully me into showing them my report card full of checkmarks for needs improvement as it related to sentence structure, grammar, use of words, use of the English language, etc. What little self-esteem I had plummeted and I wished so badly that I got it, but man was English hard. Just so hard.

The leader of the Asian pack , Jade Chien, had thick pink rimmed glasses and a matching string to keep 'em close by and an obnoxious know-it-all voice that made me shiver with extreme fear. She was just awful. After getting my green grapes (the ones my mum packed for me in ziploc bag) and other snacks (I somehow only remember the green grapes, my mum took 'em off of the stems) taken from a daily game of "Do what I say Slave!" from Jade and her entourage (yes, even at the age of eight, it is possible), I hungered for something to munch on, ravenous for anything before dinner when my parents picked me up at 6 everyday (I was enrolled in this after school Chinese school program from 3 - 6 PM). My mum soon noticed and wondered why the snacks she prepared for me were not sufficient. I quickly fibbed and told her I was sharing with my friends (cuz sharing is caring, right?). She gently told me that was fine but since these snacks were a token of her love for me, I should be careful not to share it all and eat some myself. I attempted this logic with Jade but got lost in her rebuttal and ended up without grapes and my other snacks once more.

To make a long story short (and because the long version is in the form of my creative college thesis entitled Growing Up ABC), I got bullied some more to the point where my mum eventually quit her job and opted for something part time so she could pick me up from school at 3 PM and take me home, where I got all the snacks I wanted, a lot more free time for extracurricular activities like piano, dance, various crafty art classes, and trips to the library for a lot of books to read. As for Chinese school, I was part of the lucky crew of Asian kiddos who went on Saturday morning from 9 - 12 (yes, I sacrificed my Saturday morning cartoons, Saved by the Bell and California Dreams).

Since we lived three blocks from a tiny library about 1000 sq feet since I was six, trips to the library were once every 2-3 days and I poured myself into the reality found in these books, finding myself reading books until 2 or 3 AM for most of my elementary school existence. A good book (by my standards) had to be finished ASAP! I could not wait to come home from school the next day to finish it!

And then, in the fourth grade, I miraculously got it. English that is (I mean, to the extent that I got it today...which is not to say fully, but a huge improvement compared to my ESL days). And I attribute "getting it" to all the books I read.

I have been thinking about all of this because 1) I recently went to the library for the first time since college (which doesn't really count since you go there to study and look for studious cute guys), 2) I want to teach my son Chinese - be it Mandarin or Cantonese and 3) I need to start making some parental changes to my routine with Jordan to incorporate both 1 and 2.

Okay, so I know the cards are against me in terms of raising Jordan with trilingual capabilities considering I don't speak a lick of Cantonese, Andy speaks some Mandarin and both of us are fairly proficient in English (again, read above, maybe not so much on my part). But as I was walking around the library this last weekend, looking for some books, I got to thinking....

This is an environment I feel very comfortable in. Even with a different library, in a different town, with different catalogue and check-out tools (technology these days is insane!), it's the same quiet and safe comfort of the library that I felt so many years ago. And even when I was a smidgen away from being "ESL," the books I read, or poured over (be it not exactly literary masterpieces, more like lots of Sweet Valley High, Babysitter's Club, R.L.Stine, V.C. Andrews, Mary Higgins Clark, Judy Blume and Roald Dahl) helped me. Who would have thought, right?

So I really should try to take Jordan to the library more, give him a sanctuary like I had growing up and also, these recipe books and craft books are something worth checking out! This then got me thinking about opportunities with learning a language. Yes, being trilingual or even bilingual are very difficult tasks to accomplish, but if I don't even try... I won't have done my parents any justice.

I know I may face defeat, that my son may refuse to speak Mandarin or Cantonese in fear of being "weird" and not American (much of us Asian kids went through this identity crisis growing up), or that he may not have enough examples or native speakers around to learn from, but if I don't even try.... I have given up without a fight. And if I am ESL and can learn to love reading and feel completely comfortable immersed in an American library full of English books.... well the sky's the limit right?

Hello, I'm ESL... hopefully it will come in handy when I try to help my son be CSL.