It all adds up.

Mr. K and I have been a little under the weather for the past week. We had the same symptoms, which of course means I was congested and had a headache and Mr. K asked me to have the priest come administer last rites.

Twice.

And he isn't even Catholic.

Apparently being on the brink of death makes him religious.

Anyway, this means we have been laying low as much as we can with three children under the age of three. Translation: the tv has been on for good chunks of the day for several days.

Give me a break! We were sick! (cough cough cough, gag, spit, rinse, repeat)

Lately Piglet has been asking for a lot of Curious George and as a result, we've all been wanting to off ourselves enjoying a lot of "e e e e ahh ahh ahh" sounds along with dialogue from The Man with the Yellow Hat.

Today OUR dialogue went something like this:

Mr. K: Oh my. He had the train conductor over...

Me: Who?

Mr. K: The Man with the Yellow Hat!

Me: Oh, for dinner?

Mr. K: Yes, or something... perhaps a little wine? Some slow dancing?

Me: OMG. You think The Man with the Yellow Hat is gay?

Mr. K: I'm just calling it like I see it. His clothes always match, they even match his car (!), he lives in the city but has a country house, he has an exotic animal as a pet and the clincher -- he has box seats to the symphony.

Me: This is a new low. We are now analyzing a cartoon and the main character only communicates by grunting.

Mr. K: Darling! I'm in a weakened state! (cough cough cough)

When he couldn't take it anymore, Mr. K took the time to go to URGENT CARE (because he doesn't like his primary). A few hours later I got a text from him that said.

"Sinus infection! They say I'm lucky to be alive!"

To which I responded "Should I call priest? Again? Also, be sure to stop by my mom's and see Piglet one last time."

As you can see, having three children under the age of three has sapped me of all sympathy. Even for something as serious as a raging sinus infection.

The one you've been waiting for.

So, Father's Day was fast-approaching and though I wracked my (addled, sleep-deprived) brain, I was at a loss for inspiration.

Afterall, how would I *ever* top the Mother's Day gift(s) I'd been given this year? I mean, REALLY. How does one top that? I was faced with a mind bender.

During the week leading up to Father's Day (hereafter referred to as F.D.), I looked to my children for inspiration. Dems cute, dems full of ideas (especially that wiley two year-old) and dems who I spend most of my waking hours with. In between the shrieking (Piglet), spitting up (Twinks) and meltdowns (ALL), I searched for the perfect idea, but remained at a loss.

That is, until the morning before F.D.

I thought I'd capture Piglet on video giving a little tribute to his old man. You know, a little improv plus some "I wuv you daddyyyyy!" or "Appy Ather's Day Daddyyyy!"

Instead, I got this:

Pure genius! Just the inspiration I was seeking! My Piglet is such a clever little boffin.

So on this momentous occasion, Mr. K's first Father's Day with THREE children, I presented him with this:

Note that I sprung for the Ultra, Double Roll, jumbo pack with NEW Cotton Comfort. So posh!

And this:

Sorry for the poor quality, off-center picture, but hopefully you can at least make out the text.

Because we are all for saving trees, I went with a punchcard format instead of individual coupons. Next, I'm going to laminate it!

I also want to give a shout-out to all my hilarious FB friends who egged me on and suggested coupons for things such as nail trims, shaving cream and toilet scrubbing! Bahahahahaha.

Lest you think I am all about revenge and grudge holding (though you are mostly correct), let the record show that I did surprise Mr. K by booking him a 90 minute massage this morning.

Afterall, SOMEONE has got to lead by example around here. Before he departed for his massage, I reminded Mr. K. that this was not only a gift but ALSO a TEACHABLE MOMENT. As in -- I'm trying to teach you how NOT to screw me on Mother's Day again.

Because if you do, I guarantee you, your next F.D. will most *certainly* be more of an F.U.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY HONEY!!! THANKS FOR BEING AN AMAZING DAD TO OUR PIGLETS! LOVE YOU! MMMMMMMMWAH.

Vocabulary

As you can imagine, things get pretty, hm...hairy around Maison Piglets these days. As a result, Piglet has picked up some new vocab words and phrases. We're *sure* an early start on such a vast range of word usage is going to get him into Stanford someday. Here's a random sampling of his new words and phrases:

boob

boobs

shit (breaking my no blog swearing rule in order to maintain integrity)

pump

spit up

blech! (this one hasn't made it into Webster's yet, but soon, very soon)

I go to Target

Daddy at work

Daddy at office

I'm leaking!!!

coffee

babies waah waah!

Mommy - GO GET IT.

NOW.

shhhhh, quiet

I did it!

binky

burpie

tripwire

P.U.!

I pee pee on Esha! (Lisa, our nanny)

Mama sad

I sad

Mama happy!

I happy!

I'll let you draw your own conclusions as to how and why he learned these new words. Kinda like a Mad Lib but with more poop.

Stay tuned for my Father's Day post. Mr. K is getting the same royal treatment I got! He is *SO* excited! (Aren't you?)

Reward

Last week I logged onto my blog to start a new blog entry for the 674th time in two days. As usual, I started writing, wrote two lines and then promptly got interrupted by, well, you know, LIFE WITH THREE UNDER TWO or some lame excuse like that.

Somewhere around try number 539, I noticed that I'd gone from 63 followers to 62.

GASP.

I lost someone.

A reader!

A URL friend!

In the course of a week, someone who used to find me worthy of following, deemed me no longer worthy. And with one swift CLICK, the deed was done.

I was out of their life and feed forever.

They might as well have UNFRIENDED ME, that's how much it smarted.

I'll admit, I *might* have obsessed about it.

Just a little.

Just a teeny bit.

Just -- oh who am I kidding, you all know me too well anyway.

It was a lot.

Because even though I had twins ten weeks ago and can barely string together two coherent sentences, I still found the time to obsess.

Because I'm still, you know, ME.

(Sidenote: Go me! Way to retain your former identity!)

Then I got to thinking.

Wait! There are still 62 followers out there! Sixty two AWESOME followers! Who at some point said to themselves "Hey, this MVK is kind of psycho, OCD, entertaining! I think I'll stay tuned!"

SIXTY TWO PEOPLE STILL LIKE ME!

SQUEEE!!!!

(What can I say, once diagnosed, the prognosis for the Disease to Please is abysmal.)

Then I thought - I need to return the love! I need to show them I'm still here! I need to keep them laughing (and following)!

So here is the reward you all so richly deserve, for following along on what has become a somewhat sporadic recounting of our daily lives.

Aren't you glad you stayed?

I surely am.

P.S. Nursing moms and moms who have ever nursed, I know you know what those things that Piglet tossed over the bed are. Word.

P.P.S. Note Mr. K's guitar in the glider chair, yes, he's still strumming my pain.

So, Mother's Day...

There are a thousand reasons why I fell in love with and subsequently, married my husband.

He is kind.

He is a good person.

He knows his way around a kitchen.

He is brilliant.

I'll spare you the remaining 996 reasons, but rest assured they exist.

However.

Because you *knew* there was a 'however' in there -- gift giving/purchasing is not his strong suit. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that he kind of sucks at it.

Kind of.

Fortunately, given some guidance and gentle direction (e.g. catalog pages ripped out and taped to his rather imposing eyebrows), he has been known to pull through critical situations. Without said guidance or direction, he's like a lamb to the slaughter. Because MVK loves her some presents.

They don't need always need to be grand or extravagant but I love getting trinkets from Mr. K. I also *adore* giving gifts. I'm that person who buys a gift in advance and then just can't wait until the occasion arrives, so I give it to the person early. I'm so five that way. The year the Wii had just come out and was impossible to get? I got my hands on one and lasted two days before I gave it to Mr. K even though Christmas was still two weeks away. The better the gift, the more excited I am to give it.

Mr. K? He could take or leave gifts (and occasions for that matter). Anniversaries, birthdays, holidays are all fine and good with him, but there's no thrill or excitement surrounding them. He enjoys getting gifts, but if all I presented him with on his birthday was a pair of socks and a peanut butter sandwich, he'd be fine. Grateful, even. The man is a nutter butter like that.

In the formative phase of our nearly decade-long relationship, I thought it was cute and quirky. For instance our first Christmas together, he got me the following:

• a spatula large and sturdy enough not only to flip pancakes, but perhaps also a snow tire
• a pair of leopard print, bootie-style Dearfoam slippers
• a pair of brown hairy socks

It was an inexplicable trio of gifts but I went with it because I was in LURV.

As the years have passed, I've accepted Mr. K's lack of enthusiasm in the gift giving department. Often, I just save him the trouble and say "Babe, I bought myself a birthday present from you. It's fabulous and thank you."

Sometimes he surprises me and of his own volition, does something awesome. Last year for my birthday (when I was 100 months pregnant with the Twinks) he wrote me the sweetest card and enclosed homemade coupons for a five day, kid-free getaway for myself and a friend. We've already planned a sunny vacation for the fall and I'm so excited!

But for Mother's Day this year, I didn't have time or energy to rip out pages of catalogs or send links to things I want online. In fact, there wasn't really anything I wanted or needed. But that being said, I'm still a WOMAN and considering I'd just given birth to twins, I figured it was an occasion Mr. K might spend a little time noodling. Just this once.

On Sunday, Mr. K and Piglet presented me with a teal blue envelope (not from Tiffany, don't get excited) and inside it was a card with the message "Warm Wishes on Mother's Day" imprinted on the inside. I should've known then that Mr. K was short on sleep and energy and this was not going to end well for any of us.

Mr. K wrote some nice sentiments on the card and signed it from he and the boys with a P.S. that read: "Coming soon are coupons for TEN SHOWERS! So you can shower anytime you want! Happy Mother's Day!"

DUDE.

SHOWERS.

S-to-the-H-to-the-OWERS.

As in to be used to BATHE MYSELF.

As in that was my MOTHER'S DAY GIFT this year.

Just to reiterate in case you are not quite sure what I mean.

Mr. K honored me, the mother of his THREE children, the woman who went to great lengths and innumerable pains to bear said children, with the gift of TAKING A SHOWER. And not just ONE shower, but TEN!

TEN WHOLE SHOWERS!

ALL FOR ME!

I MUST BE AN AWESOME MOTHER TO DESERVE SUCH A GIFT!

You can *imagine* how well this was received by my raging, sleep-deprived postpartum hormones.

"But, but, you are always saying how GREAT you feel once you've taken a shower in the morning! I thought this would delight you!" Mr. K was treading water like hell.

My thoughts? Apparently I should've repeated over and over how GREAT it feels to wear DIAMONDS everyday!

Or SMELL ROSES!

Or EAT CHOCOLATE!

Mr. K is a very literal person. Who knew?

You may wonder why I'm sharing this story since it's not a typical recounting of the Mother's Day. Because I want you to know it's not always bubbles and cupcakes at Maison Piglet. And while it wasn't funny at all at the time, it was funny as hell just one day later.

The next day I laughed until I cried because it was so funny.

The story is SO Mr. K; SO very US.

And while I might forget about roses or chocolate (but not likely diamonds, ahem), I will never forget the year I got showers for Mother's Day.

Thanks, Babe. You're nothing if not memorable!

Oh and Father's Day is coming up and paybacks are hell.

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.  

In the water?

Mr. K came home a few weeks ago telling me that the insurance premiums at his company were going up because of "all the twins" (and some major back surgeries, etc.). What twins, I asked?  How could they already know about our twins?  Then he told me that three other families at his company had had twins in the past year. Two fraternal and one identical. There are about 350 employees where my husband works, so three (and soon to be four) sets of twins in a one-year period are kind of a red flag I guess.  From what I know, none of the other twins are a result of ART though.

Mr. K works with one of the twin dads on a fairly regular basis and he took this hilarious video of him before a meeting the other day. (Gotta love the 3Gs.)  As I watched it, Mr. K kept saying "Look how tired he looks! Look at the bags under his eyes!"  My thoughts?  The guy is showered, dressed and there appears to be hair product in his coif.  Doesn't seem that tired to me!  ;)   Though he does refer to one of the twins as "it" and says "cycular" which I am pretty sure is a hybrid of *real* words such as "cyclical" and "circular." Bahaha!

Then again, better stop laughing because in a few months, instead of laughing at this video, I might be crying alongside it.

He's either...

...cute or Kim J.ong-Il.  

The polls are now open. 

Lyrical captions

"Oops, I did it again."

"Do you really want to hurt me?"

"If we didn't laugh, we would all go insane."

I made Mr. K (the artist formerly known as DH) wear pink in solidarity.  Matched my custom-made, pink stripey, monogrammed hospital gown.

Oh no, she diiiiinnnn't.

Oh yes, I DID.

The nurses say that no one before (I did this back in '07 too) and no one since has ever brought in their own hospital gown. "You're an original! A legend!" she said.  

Then she said, "Now squeeze the sperm, you're going to get a poke."

And then I said, "Wait.  I thought we were doing IVF."  

Bahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa

Forgive me, it's 4:00 a.m. and I am really, really ridiculous.  

How (in)appropriate!

Today at my blood draw, I as always, reminded the phlebotomist that I have very fine veins, so would she pretty please use a butterfly on me. Then I asked for the squeezie thing because I like to have something to grip.  In the past I've been handed an assortment of different shapes - a globe, pancreas, golf ball, etc.  Today, she says to me, "Sorry, my globe disappeared, so all I have is THIS"  and thrusts this white thing into my hand. It took me a second to realize what it was.

I almost cried I laughed so hard. In fact, I may have cried. Who knows these days. Then I announced that I had to take a picture of it to post on my blog and possibly Facebook.  She humored me but I think she thought I was a little nutz-o. I probably am, but what the hell. I am positive the people on the other side of the wall were wondering what I could POSSIBLY need a picture of from the blood draw station!

Laugh WITH me!  You know you want to! 

Caveat emptor

In case you haven't bought a house or brushed up on your latin lately, caveat emptor means "buyer beware."  Recently, dh decided his wardrobe needed a little infusion of geek chic and he implored me to help him with this task. I love to shop (duh), so of course I didn't bat a (measly, straight, asian) eyelash.  I am not only equal to, but larger than the task at hand.  How fun!  I get to buy my husband clothes and I don't even need to sneak them into his closet for him to "discover" randomly and think it's been there for months! Visions of Facconnable and Banana Republic and Ben Sherman danced in my head.  I would not call myself the consummate bargain shopper, but I rarely pay full price, so I headed to Nordstrom Rack first. Next I went to Banana Republic, but their selection of sale merchandise was woefully lacking, so in what I thought was a stroke of genius, I turned to - eBay!  I'd had good luck there before in terms of men's shirts.  Plus, Banana Republic has very reliable sizing, so I knew that would be no problem. 

I found several shirts that I thought would suit my dh and was delighted when I was the successful bidder on most of them. Every few days one would arrive in the mail and I would show off my "finds" to dh when he came home from work.  He'd say "good work babe, I LOVE these shirts!" And I'd beam and say "And babe, they were only $25 each!" All the shirts came pinned and pressed because I only buy my baby things that are NWT (new with tags).  Momma doesn't skimp just because she buys on eBay.  ;)  

One morning, dh called to me from our closet.  I was in the nursery chasing a diaperless Piglet around.  

Dh: Babe?  Hey, um, babe?

Me: Yep?  I'm trying to put a diaper on the Piglet!  Piglet, come here!!! 

Dh: Um, babe, can you come here for a minute? 

Me: Argh, just a second!  I am trying to put a diaper on your child.  Crap, he just peed on the rug.  {Then I stomped over to our bedroom. Walked in to find dh wearing one of the new green striped shirts I bought him on eBay.}  WHAT?  What do you need?

Dh: Um, I'm sorry to drag you over here, but I wasn't sure...is THIS supposed to be on the back? {Spins around} 

Me: {Fall on the floor laughing.}  OMG!  I didn't know that was on there!!!  

Dh: And is it supposed to be off-center?!  

Me: {Crying now I am laughing so hard.}

SO, the moral here is buyer beware!  If you buy your husband a shirt on eBay, make sure you take a gander at the back AND the front!  Otherwise, you might send your husband to work wearing a shirt bearing a large, off-center crest topped with a triumphant antelope(?) on the back.  If I hadn't been around, I swear dh would've innocently worn it in, thinking he was a cool kid now.  

A funny Friday night

Dh and I fell in love while laughing.  Usually at each other.  Sometimes at other people. We are always up for something if we think it's going to be funny.  We heard Jerry Seinfeld was coming back to town so of course we got tickets.  We saw him the last time he came (about three years ago) and we laughed so hard our cheeks hurt.  This time was no different.  

At the end of the show, Jerry (we're on a first name basis) came out and did a short Q & A.  One of the questions asked was if he would ever do another television show.  This was his (hilarious) response: "You know, the answer is no.  You know why?  because I'm old and tired and rich.  (hahahahaha!) I told you I have three kids.  Every morning we watch Elmo together.  And you know what - I LIKE Elmo.  I think he's entertaining and people enjoy him.  I watch him and I think to myself  - 'let him work his little red ass off.  I'm done.'"  

How FUNNY is that?!  

We've decided that EVERY time Jerry comes to town, we're going.  Laughing non-stop for 90 minutes is definitely good for us.  It reminded us of when we first met and everything was all rainbows and sunshine and laughter 24/7.  The night caps afterwards were a good idea at the time, maybe not so good the morning after, but who cares?  It was totally worth it. What can top laughter and love?  Ah yes, the sleeping Piglet we came home to that night.  

On a lighter note...

You may remember that I LOVE pop culture (read: trashy) magazines.  Since I was down about my cyst, etc. and dh was traveling this week, I woke up this morning to find these on my nightstand.

To cheer me up, my dh stopped at the airport newsstand at 1:00 a.m. to buy me every tabloid available before dragging his exhausted self home. Now THAT'S love!! (Nevermind that I subscribe to US Weekly...it's the thought).

And this is the conversation we had this morning while perusing them:

DH: So how long has 'Jon and Kate' been on?

Me: Um, I think this is the fifth season. 

DH: And they get paid $75K per every episode?!  

Me: Yep.  And last season there were 41 episodes!

DH: That's about about $3 million dollars!!! (He did the math in his head in about two seconds, so I don't know if it's accurate, but that's what he said).  

Me: I know.  And that's just ONE season!

DH: What?!  She wouldn't touch her bleeding child during a press thing?

Me: Apparently not. Isn't that messed up?

DH: And they're going to talk about all this infidelity crap on the show?

Me: That's what it looked like on the trailer!

DH: (Moving on to a different magazine, and then says earnestly)   

Wait.  Who are the Gosselins?  

Bahahahahaaaa!!!!!  I love my husband.  He is so disarmingly clueless, but brilliant.

No words needed, but music? Yes.

The video below was important enough for me to summon the maestro in me.

And I summoned Lionel Ritchie.

That's all I can, or need to say. :)

And yes, we (the moms) know that our children are going to seek sweet revenge for this when they grow up.  Still totally worth it.

=

Piglet thinks it's funny!

In my monthly update (below) I told you how Piglet now laughs when HE thinks something is funny. It's cute. It's almost as if he's saying "I don't know what YOU think, but I think this is HI-LAR-IOUS!!!"

I captured this moment recently while Piglet was watching some guy cluck like a chicken. Please forgive his attire and food 'stache, I put a smock (Bumikins!) on him when he eats yogurt. The mess is epic otherwise.

Enjoy the video. I've watched it about a THOUSAND times and it still cracks me up. I love how he pauses between the bits that tickle his funny bone. Have I mentioned how much I ADORE my child? Because I do. More. Than. Anything.

In case you had any doubt...

I ROCK.  You heard me.  I said.  I  R O C K.

That's me.  

Mommalove.  

With a PERFECT Rockband score on Billy Idol's classic - White Wedding.  

Compliments er, I mean comments welcome. 

Happy Friday! 

P.S. - Dh scored a paltry 96% in comparison.  ;)

Demanding baby = funny video

Forgive me, but sometimes I think it's so funny when Piglet has these mini-meltdowns because I won't give him the salt shaker or whatever.  Jana inspired me to capture this moment on video and I think it's hilarious!  Might not be so funny in public at the end of a long day, but first thing in the morning it was pretty darn funny.  

Take note of how he throws everything on the floor in an act of defiance.  He has such a short fuse! Whenever I say "no no" he takes whatever's around and just pelts it to the ground.  I try not to laugh but sometimes I do anyway.  If you listen closely, I'm trying to stifle a giggle right before he throws himself backwards. ;)

What's even funnier is that I didn't give him what he wanted and at the end of this video, he forgot why he was mad and just started watching TV.  Classic.  And, he's a total faker.  There was not one single tear shed!

I love my back-arching, bellowing, terrible little child so much.  Total keeper.  I don't know what I'd do with a quiet, calm, undemanding baby!  I mean, who would I laugh at all day long? 

Heard around the house...

I am a slave to pop culture magazines.  I even subscribe to them. 

I know.

Most people buy them as a "vacation treat" but after I had Piglet I decided reading these trashy magazines was as close I might come to lounging by the pool for awhile, so I bit the bullet.  

Come on, you know you totally scan them as you're waiting in line at the grocery store...

Every Friday I anxiously await the mail because I know my US Weekly will be somewhere in the pile of envelopes and catalogs.  And it never disappoints.  

Sometimes I randomly read things aloud while flipping through my magazines.  Sometimes dh tries to interpret what I'm saying.  It gets pretty funny.  Here's our dialogue from yesterday. 

Me: Hm.  Winged eyeliner is out.  It apparently tries too hard which is not in line with the season.

Dh: Wind gliders?

Me: WI-NGED EYE-LI-NER. 

Dh: Winged gliders don't stand in line?

Me: Nicole Ritchie's winged eyeliner is out of style.

Dh: Nicole Ritchie has a wind glider?  Isn't she pregnant?

Bahahahahahahaha!

Blame your girl cousins

My mom watched my sister's two girls basically from birth until they went to school full-time.  As a result, there are many, many hair clips and bows strewn in drawers all over the house.  We spend a fair amount of time at my parents' house. Piglet has a lot of hair. You do the math.  

This is funny.

On our way to the hospital at the crack of dawn, there was a TON of dense fog.  I thought you all might find the conversation dh and I had amusing.

dh: Wow, I can't believe how thick the fog is.  I can barely see anything!

me: I know, it's crazy.  Hm, this must be what it's like to live in your brain every day.

dh: Bahahahahahaaa.  That reminds me - don't die.

me: Don't die?

dh: Yes, because if you die it'll be like having my seeing eye dog die.  

me: Bahhahahahahahaaaaaaa! (If I would've been allowed to have something to drink, it would've come out my nose I laughed so hard!)

At least we know how to have a good laugh at our own expense even when we're stressed and worried.  It's the little things that get you through the tough times.  Happy Superbowl Sunday everyone!