Freak Out Moments Galore

There are certain rituals I do before we go out of town - mostly clean the house, make sure laundry is done and the dirty stuff is minimal, that the dishes are clean and loaded into the cupboards, and that the house is devoid of too many scattered messes. This mitigates the likelihood of me freaking out when we get home and thereby going on a crazy quest to clean up when I'm fatigued and still have a suitcase to unpack. Oh freak out moment, how fun you are.

Lately, I've been having a lot of freak out moments. Most of them have to do with the lil one kicking in my belly that will make a debut in May. I got this wonderful the bump magazine from a co-worker and it's jam packed with information on baby proofing, nurseries, strollers, diaper bags, baby showers, emergency info, delivery room info, kicking chart graph, baby gender predictor, survival guide, poop guide, delivery Q&A, breastfeeding, baby friendly outings, bump photo ops, etc. As you can only imagine, this exhaustive list not only exhausts me, but freaks me out!

I always knew that being a mom would be a HUGE change, but I never really knew how much more there was to learn! Having grown up reading teeny bop magazines like YM, Teen and Seventeen, then moving on to more grown-up ones (some quite trashy now that I look back) like Allure, In Style, Glamour and Cosmopolitan, and then moving onto my work out craze of Shape and Fitness and now into my cooking mode of Better Homes and Gardens and Martha Stewart's Food magazine, I always feel like yes, there is a learning curve, but hey, it is steady and doable because the magazines help you learn. Then, before you know it, you have a very basic understanding of everything the magazines report on, it almost becomes repetitive and you feel pretty good about the info presented, looking only at the new and upcoming stuff. With baby stuff, it doesn't feel that way. The magazines I've gotten so far (though only 3 or 4) all have different info, or so it FEELS and my eyes grow agape with awe and shock when I read most of the stuff. I didn't know that! *gasp Really?! Uh-oh.

Fear. Instilled. In. Me.

Fear. Overwhelms. Me.

Fear. Shock. Silence. Fear.

I'm fearful! I'm so scared! Scared I'll drop the baby, scared I'll suffocate him, scared I won't know if he's got a hernia or if he's just hungry when he's crying, scared I won't know how to hold him, scared I'll give him a diaper rash because I'm not using the diaper, the wipes or the cream correctly, scared I'll give him a bath with the wrong soap, scared I'll wash his clothes with the wrong detergent, scared his head will bump into something on my behalf, scared he'll swallow something on my watch, scared I won't know how much food he should be eating, scared I won't know how to be a mom!!! And those are only my freak out moments post baby delivery.... don't even get me started on the delivery chaos that runs through my mind as I read more birth (horror) stories!

Andy, on the other hand, seems calm and composed. His answers to my freak out moments galore are always that we'll figure it out, or don't be scared. Easy for him to say, hard for me to digest.

I know that faith and fear don't co-exist, but lately, it's been hard for me to process that. I thought about why that is, and realized, maybe that's what I should study about today, and that it's okay to pray about it, asking for more help to face my fears. I know I can't do this alone, that's why I have newsletters, magazines, family and friends... but I also have a Saviour and a loving Heavenly Father and I seem to have forgotten them as it relates to these specific freak out moments. I always pray for help with other things, like patience, more faith, and the strength to choose the right, the love to serve others, etc. but yet here I am, freaking out and forgetting that I have the best access to help and to know I'm not alone. I need to remember that.

I know not to be scared (but I still am!) and I know my Saviour will help me (but I must make the effort too). I know this will not be easy (but a bunch of other moms have done it before me including Eve with no medicine, no epidural, no delivery room gadgets) and I know Heavenly Father is looking out for me. I know we are not given any challenge we cannot overcome and I know there will be unimaginable happiness once Baby J is here, no matter how scared I am now.

I know. I just have to remind myself that I do.

One Size Fits All

A lot of people like prego pants, but it is safe to say, I am not one of those people. Though the belly band which sits atop the jeans is aimed to allow comfortable expansion (something I thought I would gladly welcome and revisit post pregnancy for buffet outings), my flat Asian butt cannot hold up my jeans, my pregnant tops are not long enough, and without a belt, the entire equation of prego pants is utter disaster.

I initially thought the problem was the fact that the pants only came in three sizes - S, M and L. I then was given the opportunity to try on designer pregnant pants (all over $200 buckaroos) which definitely fit better, but were way too long (which doesn't make sense, because don't prego feet swell and not fit into heels?!). There was just no way around it.

Even though I know my prego pants don't fit well, they are the only non Lululemon pants (stretchy - yay!) that I can can still wear these days so sadly, I still wear 'em when I need to look decent and don't feel like wearing another prego dress (my Monday through Friday uniform and Sunday best).

Tonight, as I was sporting my prego pants, I dwelled on the fact that if only one size fit all! That somehow... if my pants were like those in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, my jeans would just fit perfectly - no matter how little or big my Asian butt got or how big Baby J gets! But then, as I thought more about it, I realized - one size fits all is a myth. One size never fits all! It simply means it is so big, anyone can wear it, which usually means, somewhere, if it fits someone perfectly, it may also be too small for someone else but that generally, it will just be too big!

There really isn't anything that is one size fits all - even if it's got spandex, elastic or lots of room to stretch and shrink. One size fits all... big fat liar more like it!

But you know what is one size fits all - no matter what shape or size?

The Atonement.

The Atonement of Jesus Christ is one size fits all - no matter how educated, how nice, how rich, how skinny, how faithful, how great, how INSERT you are.... it fits all of us. Nobody has sinned so much that the Atonement doesn't work and likewise, nobody is so perfect that it is unnecessary and in that aspect, the Atonement truly is one size fits all.

One size does fit all.

Snail Mail: It Brings a Smile to Your Face

I used to watch I Love Lucy episodes on my pop's 8x8 black and white TV. It felt cool to just lounge and use the small old TV for the one thing on TV that was actually black and white. I never thought there'd be a day when color TVs seem old school...until last night. We left my cousin's 50 inch HD flat screen television in the last 10 minutes of the Superbowl game to join my parents at my aunt and uncle's for a belated Chinese New Year dinner and saw the last 3 minutes on a non-HD old school box. We leaned forward, focusing our eyes, trying to figure out where the ball was landing. How did anyone used to watch games on non-HD televisions smaller than 30 inches? Yet it wasn't that long ago when even the normal premium channels lacked HD and the only thing old school was my pop's 8x8 black and white box!

Communication these days is eerily similar. I'm one of the few left in a population spanning over 2-3 years who knew and used pager code. This was pre-cell phones and pre-texting and of course, I was lucky (spoiled) enough to get a teal pager from my parents! My parents would page me when they wanted to know where I was, but that still meant finding a phone to call them back on. More importantly, our friends could page one another with messages deciphered only by those who could read the code (numbers were letters). These days, everyone has a cell phone - not just for safety purposes of having a form of communication when driving if an accident occurs or to call you parents for a ride... but just for fun. It seems to me that 12 year olds have cell phones though I guess I had a pager when I was 13. To add to the mess of technology communication, everyone has internet - if not on their phone, then definitely at home - facebook updates, gchat status messages, twitter, e-mail, text messages, phone calls... eek! I get scared just thinking of all the things I'll have to do to keep my kids from being overexposed to the technology and abusing it! We'll have to have our computer in the living room and if they get cell phones, it'll be the ones with 4 options (call mom, dad, 911, or home), and so on and so forth.

But my point wasn't how bad technology can be today.. it was actually pondering whatever happened to snail mail? Since I didn't become a member of the Church until I was 27, I haven't exactly had the most experience with missionary snail mail, which is also coincidentally now available via e-mail. So besides the letters Grace and I would send each other from Berkeley to Claremont throughout college, which were usually accompanied by a study survival kit or Valentine's Day wishes, snail mail is quite foreign to me.

So it's interesting that I've picked up snail mail as a thing of my present these days. I've been using snail mail more often, though it takes longer to prepare (I actually type around 110 WPM), I think it brings a bigger smile to one's face upon receiving it. There's something old school about getting snail mail in your mailbox, but something exciting about it too. I encourage everyone to write a snail mail today - just for fun... to anyone you want! I guarantee it will bring a smile to one face - yours... or maybe two.. and mine!

I Kill Fruit Flies With My Hands

Andy and I have a huge problem. Lately, it seems fruit flies have multiplied and replenished within the confines of our sweet home. GRrrrrRRrrr! Everywhere I look, there is a pesky little fruit fly, roaming around, jeering at me to catch it if I can see it. Problem is, they are so tiny and fleeting, that within a blink of an eye, I've lost them! I'll taunt them, saying you're going to die little one, but before I can do anything about it - they're gone! These days, more or less, I am telling them... oh, you are so lucky I can't catch you.. but I'm still going to try! I usually fail.

At first I thought it was because my half used bananas were being left out uncovered (I usually slice off the rotting part before using the other half for smoothies), so I began putting them in plastic ziploc bags. Take that you fruit fly! Fail. They came back.

Next, I thought maybe too many oranges are left out on the dining room table, so I put them all into the fridge in my fruit drawer (bottom right). They still lingered around. Repeat fail.

Finally, I decided, I need some help so I googled it. I learned that fruit flies breed in moist environments so any dishes left in the sink, wet sponges, old sponges, fruit peel or open lemons (uh-oh, I left some open to help the kitchen smell lemony fresh) or even eggs from grocery bags from the food brought home from the grocery that might not be that fresh. It was recommended that you keep all surfaces clean - wait, I think I already do that.. do I need to do even more?! Yikes! Stripes!

So the next thing I did was google, "home remedies for fruit flies." And now, I am on a mission to see which will work of the many options suggested by my friends on the worldwide web (see technology is actually good if you use it for the right things.. I also have learned how to chop an onion and sharpen a knife from Gordon Ramsey via youtube - thank you Gordon!)

1) Put some basil in between fruits and on the counter - apparently fruit flies do not like basil! You can even sprinkle some of the basil leaves on your fruit.

2) Bottle trap contraption - Fill a bottle with an inch of lemonade, juice, wine (they love alcohol or anything fermented!), or piece of fruit. Remove the lid and put a plastic wrap over the covered, but poke small holes with a toothpick... they can get in - but getting out is like finding a needle in a haystack! Take that you dumb fruit fly!

3) Put some cedar wood snips or balls in your kitchen, or in between your fruit... apparently, they also don't like that! Genius - I have some from my closet (because there was a funky smell and after putting some laundry sheets into the closet, the smell was still around and I thought .. maybe cedar wood would help?... hasn't thus far).

So I will try the above and report back. And until then, I will kill any fruit fly I see with my bare hands!! I KILL FRUIT FLIES WITH MY HANDS! And... Andy thought this might help... we'll see which works.

Let's Play House!

What little girl doesn't love playing house? Indeed it was one of my all-time favorite games and though I was without a play kitchen or any of the super neat commercialized kitchen gadgets of my time, I would improvise with what I had - many times, only my imagination. So it only makes sense that I would love living - not playing - in my house these days!

For many reasons, I actually do really enjoy the time I spend on Saturday mornings cleaning, cooking, planning, budgeting, doing laundry, running errands, working out, and organizing. My accountant, very anal and semi Type A personality comes out most when I am enjoying my post-its of tasks for the day, and I can go about my day without any interruptions - no husband (he has been on call until at least 3:30 every Saturday for the last 5 weeks), no child, absolutely nobody. I think of ways I can improve my multi-tasking, can I pop the laundry in, wash the dishes, fold the laundry and watch an episode of Community all within the next 25 minutes? What can I rearrange in order to maximize my efficiency and effectiveness? Like a mini-consultant, I analyze each week's mishaps and consider all approaches at improving my next run of Saturday morning tasks. It's challenging, but also rewarding when I am able to do better than the prior week. And regardless of the dull monotony of it all, I am surprisingly fascinated each week (though it hasn't been that long).

It reminds me of my job in more ways than I'd like to admit. We do the same thing.. we face the same challenges (no matter what the PCAOB or SEC may come out with), and with each new team, we find ways to bond and make it through the audit. And no matter how hard it seems, we always get through it,look back, reflect and feel really good about the progress we made. We laugh at the pile of wholesale junk food (intertwined with some wannabe healthy snacks to make us feel a bit better), the kill file of papers, the whiteboard of tasks crossed out and the remnants of every team member getting sick while on the job (it's really gross actually). But in the end, we feel good about it because we made it as a team and soon after, we get a pat on the back and a team celebration (often at an overpriced restaurant I would never go to without Uncle P footing the bill).

Such are so many things in life that will continue to be that way. Challenging... yes. Repetitive... maybe. Rewarding... definitely.

I know playing house won't always be fun. I know having Baby P around will make it difficult for me to go about my normal routine. I know sleep will not be an option anymore. I know playing house everyday might not be as fun as once a week.

But I also know that just like audit and just like playing house.... living home will be tough, frustrating, unbelievable, and insane! .. but always bearable, doable, and rewarding.

I just have to remember that when I'm dying for sleep, when I'm sick of poopy diapers, when the baby is crying and I have no clue what to do, when multitasking is not an option, when separating my laundry by whites and colors is a thing of the past, when getting ready for Church means more than 15 minutes, when life is more than just Andy and me.

But just like audit... the work always gets done. But in audit, we are all dispensable... even playing house.. anyone can do it. But with my baby.. I am the only one who will be his mother ...and that is so exciting! Isn't it?!

Gong Xi Fa Tsai: Hong Bao Na Lai!

Wishing you prosperity, now gimme my red envelope!

As kids, this was our go to phrase every Chinese New Year because the holiday meant red envelope$ (bonus that it rhymes). Now that it's my first year not eligible for a red envelope on New Year's (marriage disqualifies you... and I'm sure at some point old age might as well...), I've been missing the unofficial traditions I grew up with. Red and gold fu (luck) hung upside down all over our houses to remind us of the new lunar year, lu buo gao (turnip cake) for breakfast, shark fin soup, a plethora of homemade Chinese delicacies, eight treasure sticky rice, and my favorite, fried nian gao (sticky glutinous rice breaded and fried and a homonym for yearly height or every year higher and higher).

To celebrate our first Chinese New Year's as a married couple, we had our own version of Chinese New Year with frozen delicacies - dumplings and onion pancake with homemade dipping sauce (soy sauce, sesame oil, chopped garlic, and ground fresh chili paste - I use the Sambal Oelek brand). Of course, it wasn't the same (though traditionally in China, New Year's is always celebrated with dumplings) but Andy sensed my disappointment (plus I pouted and told him my mom had lu buo gao for breakfast and we didn't!) and he offered the blessing of the food. It took me about five seconds to realize he was saying the prayer in Mandarin which brought a smile to my face and behold, a new tradition among our family was established!

Looking forward to next year, I am already resolving (though not a Lunar year celebration tradition) to make my lil rabbit's first Chinese New Year super special. Planning and preparing will aid me in accomplishing this goal (along with three authentic Chinese recipe books from my brother for Christmas) as well the nearby Chinatown, Little Tapei and Arcasia. I can already picture it - he'll be in a mini mian ao with a little cap and a fake braid.

Xing Nian Kuai Le! Happy New Year! And here's to the year of the rabbit which is what our lil one will be! Do we think he really will be peaceful, sympathetic, calm, private, classy and trendy? ... Only time will tell!

Here's to new traditions for our family with the new lunar year!

Prego Brain: Fact or Fiction?

According to my nurse, pregnancy hormones would affect my brain's ability to function properly and I would begin to forget simple things. I was advised to keep my keys in the same place, a practice already instituted in our home. In an effort to heed her warning, I began to take notes more often than not. Anytime a thought came into my head about tasks to complete, I would jot it down.

With time, the habit slowly deteriorated and I found myself blaming my prego brain time and time again. Most of the times, however, they were not in seriousness....

And then on Sunday, Andy asked me to remind him to bring his blood pressure kit to our friend's who had generously invited us over for Sunday dinner. Our friend wanted to check his blood pressure so Andy was going to help him out by bringing his handy dandy doctor kit. But try as I might, remember I could not. Fail as I would, I did too... because without a note, no reminder, nothing, my prego brain succeeded in dominating my ability to remember!

And yet, I just knew there was something to remember. I scoured my brain for a clue, retraced the day's events, hoping some inkling of remembrance would grace my thoughts. I even asked Andy what I was supposed to remind him, what I was supposed to recall, what I was supposed to do....No such luck.

I would only remember late Sunday night, that we forgot to bring the blood pressure kit, but not that it was the item I forgot to remind him of from earlier. Somehow, my brain's capacity was not able to connect the two.

And then just last night, I would all of a sudden remember I had an appointment with the DMV that completely slipped my mind. At this point, my frustration turned to anger. How could I forget such a thing? Didn't I write it down? I quickly looked at my blackberry calendar, hoping I had indeed written it down but just ignored it... no such luck again. I couldn't believe it. I was forgetting everything! What would I forget next? My next doctor's appointment? My baby at the grocery store?

I sat there.. fuming with utter disappointment at my own dumb prego brain. And then I pouted some more while Andy reminded me it was time for FHE. I knew that one.. I wasn't getting that bad yet.. but I was still unhappy. I thought to myself, I hope we sing a short opening hymn because I am feeling terse in my every action and thought process right this moment!

He skipped over to the organ while I dragged my feet over there, reluctant to sing a hymn and have FHE, still unhappy about my dumb prego brain. He started to play Love At Home and as I sang, I was reminded of how a hymn is simply another way for us to converse with our Heavenly Father through song. I was instantaneously uplifted and in my broken sing song voice, accompanied Andy happily with the song.

Later, I thought... time to repent. It was so humbling to think that even the littlest things can bring out the worst in us. So what if I forgot one thing.... when I accessed the DMV website, the next available appointment was for the upcoming Monday... not too much time would lapse before I could get a new ID (finally... after having a new name since August and not making 5 scheduled DMV appointments in the past). And yet the only way I was able to figure that out was through our FHE because even as Andy tried to console me earlier, I just pouted some more.

I'm glad we have FHE every week, even when I am doubtful of our lessons because FHE with two people seems silly. And, I'm glad we are practicing to be better and instilling a routine that will only become harder when it's more than just us two. Lastly, I'm glad FHE cheered me up last night and that my husband is always a pocket full of sunshine even when I am a big drop of rainy prego brain!