Friday, November 27, 2009

When I close my eyes

...and think of Piglet, this is the version of him I see. Wide-eyed, ruffled hair, full cheeks, pink lips, eyelashes that curl at the edges.

Before he was born, I tried to imagine what he would look like. My chin? Mr. K's nose? Lots of hair? Dimples? Like most parents, I dreamt of having a perfect, beautiful child.

That's right. You heard me. I said I wanted my child to be heavy in the good looks department. It's a baby romance thing. A tiny creature with all the best features from you and your husband. What's there not to love about that fantasy?

And I don't think there is a parent out there who would say they wanted otherwise.

"Yes, sir. That's him! The 'face-only-a-mother-could-love' baby I ordered!"

Of COURSE I wanted him to be healthy above all else.

Of course.

Again, there isn't a parent out there who would say they wanted otherwise.

But let's level here.

We all want cute kids. You may not want to admit it, but it's true!

I know that being an infertile means I'm not entitled to want for anything more than *just* the miracle of a live, breathing baby, but what can I say. We aim high at Maison Piglet.

And I'm so glad we do. Because Piglet really wouldn't be Piglet without those lashes that curl at the edges. Shu Uemura, eat your heart out.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009


Four years ago there was a white silk satin dress and a black tux and a penthouse suite and a live band.

Four years later there are maternity pants and Adidas tennies and a cozy house and Music Together.

Four years from now I'm not sure of the details (hopefully me in my favorite Seven jeans again) but what I do know is there will be love -- and a lot of it.

And probably coffee. A lot of that too.

We are blessed beyond all measure.

Happy Thanksgiving and many blessings to you, all my friends known and unknown.

Saturday, November 21, 2009


*Warning*  Gratuitous rant/blog entry below.  Needed for stress relief.  Please forgive.

My house is in a total state of flux right now and it is driving the perfectionist in me STARK. RAVING. MAD. I swear I need one (or ten) of those signs that say "Please pardon our mess." There are huge boxes in my foyer and dining room.  There's a large new area rug that's been propped up by the front door since it arrived two weeks ago. There are many bags of Christmas presents waiting to be wrapped in the dining room too.  My laundry room is a disaster. Same goes for the playroom. And my closet.  And Piglet's new room.  Do not get me started on the state of our garage.

I hate that I can't physically lift some of the the things and put them in their rightful place.  The three boxes in the foyer and dining room are good examples of this. What are in the three giant boxes you might ask?
  • Our new Valco Tri-Mode stroller that will be able to handle all THREE of our kids. 
  • Piglet's sweet new drum shade light fixture for his sweet new room.
  • Piglet's new nightstand in a manly shade of espresso.
I can usually spend all weekend +one day tackling the house and get it back into good working order.  But right now I just can't.  I'm soooooo freaking tired!  And today I did something weird to my back and pain is radiating from my neck to the small of my back.  Tis not good.  And then it hit me hard - physically, things are going to get a lot WORSE before they get better.  I've known this all along, but with my house feeling like the inside of a tornado right now, I am starting to stress the hell out.  

When will we move the bookshelf and glider out of the nursery so we can move in a futon and another crib?  

When am I going to have time to move all my old work clothes out of Piglet's new closet and make room for his stuff?  And then who will I have come install shelving and organizational stuff to make it as functional as the closet in the nursery?  And where in the world am I going to put all those work clothes?!  I'm not ready to part with all of them yet, but I also have nowhere to store them...




I am starting to really stress myself out.  I am usually the "project manager" at Maison Piglet, so unless I crack the whip, Mr. K is content to just hang out all day, playing with Piglet, running a few errands and napping.  Who could blame him?  Certainly not moi!  He works hard, really hard.  And I've become a big fan of napping myself.  The problem is, we NEED to get this stuff done and the sooner the better.  I am not getting any smaller or more mobile and God forbid, I get put on bedrest later on or something, I will go absolutely freaking APE knowing there are all these things still to be done.  

So today I called our handyman and scheduled to have him come and put up Piglet's sweet new drum shade light fixture and hang some shelves in there too.  

What can I say?

It's a start. 

PS - Thank you for all the awesome name suggestions.  Mr. K and are scheduled to have another name-choosing/debate session in a few days.  According to him, my "rapid fire" approach of asking if he likes this name or that name does not agree with his linear, nerdy demeanor. ;) 

Thursday, November 19, 2009


Mr. K and I are stuck.  We have one name picked out, but we cannot decide on our other twin's name.  We are officially open to suggestions.  

Have any?

If you give us a winning suggestion (that is not already listed below), I will send you a hand knit scarf made just for YOU by MOI!  Really!  I will! 

Names we are currently noodling:


Help!  As snappy as Twin A and Twin B are, I think those names fall in the top 20 on the S.ocial Security website, so they're OUT.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Oh, Canada!

Mr. K and I are on our babymoon!  When I was pregnant with Piglet, we went on three (Hawaii, Vegas, beach) and I got to pick all three destinations.  This time, I let Mr. K pick and he picked Canada.  Why Canada?  Because he is obsessed with LOVES it here.  After the election in 2004, he seriously looked into moving here because the idea of another four years under THAT administration and its idiocy just drove him completely insane.  Who can blame him?  Fortunately now, we have a new administration and we can quietly tuck away our applications for permanent residency for the time being. :)  

That being said, when we started talking about going away for a few days without Piglet, Mr. K immediately suggested Canada.  I was nonplussed, but out of fairness, practicality (it's a very short flight) and the desire to make him happy, I agreed to our destination.  I dragged my feet on making the arrangements, not booking our flight or our hotel until just a week before we were supposed to be away.  


Surely, you jest.  

Eventually, I started to look forward to our getaway and after Mr. K enthusiastically told me to "book it!" when I mentioned our favorite five-star hotel had a location in the city, I got finally got excited.  In my mind, I made plans to ambush the maid's cart that held hundreds of my favorite L'Occitane bath products in miniature. :) 

After our short, but painful-for-me flight (my friend Ralph, present and accounted for), we arrived at our posh hotel just after 12 noon (Mr. K and I each have our own full bathroom!). Once I took a short power nap, an emergency dose of Zofran and brushed my teeth, I was as good as new.  Mr. K and I wandered the city to explore "our new home" as he calls it.  (He's kidding, folks.)  I was delighted to find that in the ten+ years since I'd been here, it's turned into a shopping MECCA.  

In fact, our hotel is situated above the mack-grand-daddy of malls! I literally could tumble out of bed, down 22 floors and be at the front doors of H&M. It's marvelous!  I don't even have to brave the cold!  This is not to mention the hundreds of other large stores and adorable boutiques that pepper the city streets. And the restaurants...oh my goodness.  French food abounds and I could not be happier about it. Say it with me, Crepe Suzette!

So today is day three of our babymoon and I am happy to report that Piglet is enjoying being spoiled to death spending time with my parents and sister's family and hasn't even asked for us.  Ingrate!  

Here he is petting my sister's new puppy while simultaneously watching Thomas the T.ank Engine. Pretty sure he is miserable without us.

We miss our little ankle biter but are relishing our time to sleep in, eat at fancy restaurants like this one and generally answer only to our whim.  We  do however, still point wildly and shout loudly "Crane!" and "Choo choo!!!" every time we see one.  It's like having construction and locomotive Tourettes.  

My only complaint is that I'm pretty sure Zara and H&M are trying to kill me with their IRRESISTIBLE European-if-not-slightly-emo clothing selections for kids.  Sure hope Piglet can adjust to life in skinny jeans.  

Sunday, November 8, 2009


This weekend we cracked open a potty training book.  It supposedly helps you potty train according to your child's disposition, so before the nitty gritty, you take a quiz to help you determine what type of personality your child has and therefore, the best way to move forward.  Piglet is apparently sensory-oriented.  We're still figuring out what the heck that means to the adventure we're about to embark on.

Truth be told, Piglet has been ready for some time...some months actually.  He started out telling us once he'd pooped and then he'd tell us before he pooped and now he tells us all that and also that he wants to go "up" and be changed.  The kid is READY.  

Who isn't ready?


I bought the potty *months* ago but it's been sitting unopened in the garage.  I knew the time was coming...I just couldn't pull the trigger.

It isn't that I love changing diapers, but come on - they are soooo convenient!  And potty training is actually kind of a hideous phase.  And I am exhausted just thinking about it.  AND, I cannot imagine being out and about with all three kids...wait.  Let's just pause and have a good laugh over the likelihood of THAT happening anytime soon.  Ok. So anyway, I cannot imagine being out and Piglet saying he needs to use the potty and WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!  By the time I find a restroom, unload and put the twins into the snap n go and get inside with all three of them, Piglet is sure to have had an accident by then.  

Certain. Potty. Fail.  

But -- I don't want to be the one to hold back my child.  I'm not going to push him to do this, but I'm certainly going to encourage it.  Sit with him, cheer him on, be ready with a new choo choo or gumdrop as a prize.  I'm planning to start after Mr. K and I get back from our upcoming Babymoon.  

I would say wish me luck, but that would be too cliche.  

Instead, I say, wish us POOP! And PEE!  

And not on the floor!!!!!!  

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Heard around the house...again

The other night Mr. K and I had planned to go out for dinner. Then as we were walking into the Japanese market, I said "Let's make kim chee tonight!  I have to have kim chee with lots of ginger!"  

Honestly, I RARELY crave the food of Mr. K's people.  But for some reason I was over taken by an intense desire for some.  It was very odd.  Mr. K who often says I "deny" him food from his homeland (he was born in Minnesota) was all over this opportunity.  Then while we were at the market, we decided to make some food of my people as well.  

As we were sitting down to our Asian feast of many colors, our conversation went something like this:

Me: Honey! Look!  The food of your people and the food of my people co-existing harmoniously in one bowl!  It's *just* like our life together... 

Mr. K: Right.  Except now you need to plop three giant wontons in there to make everything messy and chaotic

So if someone ever asks the kids what nationality they are, the answer is apparently Chinese.  

Which is really funny considering we're Korean and Vietnamese.  

Monday, November 2, 2009

What I love, what I'll miss...

Things I do and will continue to love about having sons:
  • sweater vests
  • momma's boys
  • natural and incessant curiosity about the world
  • as they grow older, their needs remain largely the same and very straightforward: feed, clothe, nurture, love
  • endless fascination with things that GO
  • brotherly love
  • in about eight years, I will never, ever, have to take out the garbage again
  • they will probably let me pick out their clothes for many years to come (I just jinxed myself, didn't I?)
  • I get to teach them how to be self-sufficient men who will be considered "a catch!" by most standards
  • three sets of hands to kill any critter that makes me shriek in terror (usually of the arachnid variety)
  • they will become very partial to my cooking :) 
  • the only grooming they require is a monthly haircut
  • they love their moms FOREVER! 
Things I will miss about never having a daughter:
  • inheriting clothes from my sister, Jess and Joy
  • witnessing Mr. K parent a little girl, melts my heart to think about it
  • always having a ready and willing partner in crime for a day that involves the three Ss: spa, shopping and shoes 
  • never seeing my daughter wear all the gorgeous dresses of mine that my mom kept for me all these years
  • never getting to see Mr. K walk someone down the aisle 
  • sharing secrets as only mothers and daughters can
  • teaching her how to throw a fabulous party
  • dress shopping for memorable occasions like winter formal, prom, her wedding...
  • decorating a girl's was going to be gorgeous and full of buttery yellow
  • never having a child to send to my high school alma mater (all-girls, baby!)
  • never being able to share and relate my experience of growing up 100% with my child
I never thought that I would ever have three children and have them all be the same gender, but alas -- here I am!  For some reason two of the same always seemed likely but three of a kind was out of the question. :)  Time to shift the paradigm and realize everything happens for a reason (infertility excluded because as we all know, it is just cruel and arbitrary). 

I am thrilled that I get the privilege of raising three young people, three sons.  Am I bit wistful that I won't get to experience raising a daughter too?  Of course.  But that doesn't mean I am ungrateful to have three darling boys to call my own.  Not one bit. Because I already know they were all meant to be with me.

To be mine.