Subway Snooze Spectacular

Posted on November 27, 2013 by ajummama

So, I survive the afternoon with the Christmas Spectacular Superfan.

We get on the train to return home…sweet home. It’s past Micah’s naptime and he’s had an extra active day: school in the morning, followed by the subway ride, running through Rock Center and all that energy crying through Radio City Music Hall’s Christmas Spectacular.

I’m relishing my cuddle time with him on the train especially after his getting so upset at the show that I hardly worry about what may happen if he falls asleep on the train. He’s so happy, back to his usual self. We admire a cool dude’s bright gold Nikes. Micah puts his little red Nikes next to his, remarking, “WOW!”

Soon, Micah becomes more subdued, putting his head down on my lap. The motion of the train lulls him into the heavy-lidded phase before slumber hits. “Micah, we’re almost there. Just wait a little longer and then you can sleep at home, sweetheart! C’mon, my Micah, don’t fall asleep please!”

It was useless. He fell into a sound sleep at 4:10 pm, when we had just three more subway stops to go.

I hate to wake him from a nap. For so many reasons. Primarily, I want him to get his rest on and be himself when he wakes up, the Micah who is not going to whine and scream and carry on about being carried. When he wakes up prematurely while we are out, he cannot be consoled.

And like I stated in the last post, I HAD DECIDED TO LEAVE MY STROLLER IN THE CAR. I wanted to take a risk and not bother, remember? Frontin’ like I was free as the howling wind outside, not like the mama of a young boy who should be prepared for any combination of scenarios.

Sound familiar? Just like when I hadn’t wanted to “bother” with peeing before my drive from Long Island with the boys.

We exit the train and I try to wake him up gently. “Micah, Micah? We have to walk home now. We’re almost there. We can go see Daddy and Baby. Mommy can’t carry you. Mommy has big AHH-yah from carrying you in and out of the show. I can’t walk home carrying you because Micah’s my big boy.”

Dude slumps down on the cold subway platform to continue sleeping! Even with the loud subway sounds and low temps (30s outside). I scan the premises and realize that there are no benches on this end of the platform. There is only a blue metal contraption, maybe housing some electrical units that the MTA uses?

I hoist myself onto it, with Micah sound asleep in my arms, sharing the space with a young couple gazing into each others’ eyes. It’s about 4:15 pm. I decide that this world rushes too much these days. I’mma sit on this blue steel thingamajiggie and let Micah complete his nap, at least a catnap for the next 30 minutes. He hadn’t asked to come to no show so I will not rob him of his nap.

Plus, if he got woken up right then and started screaming for me to carry him all the way home, I wouldn’t know what to do. I just could not do that again after that last time that hero named Bruce tried to rescue me.

I mean, it was 30 degrees outside, maybe even colder now that it was dark, and the subway was so very loud like multiple car accidents to my supersonic ears, screeching and clanking in and out of the platform every few minutes on both sides since it was peak hours (commuting hour). But hey, I wanted to let my boy sleep.

So I sat there. I asked the couple to take a picture of us before they can start making out. I was using our jackets as blankets for Micah.

I realized I was really cold. My lady bits and butt were actually numb from the cold. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

People watched me. Some were obvious about staring. Some may have wondered if I was hard up. Where was my sign? That thing I was sitting on was NOT for made for sitting so I stood out to onlookers. Cold and uncomfy to sit on so I must be desperate. It became obvious that I was staying for a while. One man watched me, perplexed, trying to figure out why I was just sitting there in a weird spot with my sleeping child.

“You not taking the E OR F trains?” he asked, shaking his head while I let train after train loudly pass by without us on them. (Writing this, I’m wondering what HE was doing there, missing train after train, watching me!)

I couldn’t call Kevin because there was no reception underground, and my phone had died shortly thereafter. I didn’t seriously think about enlisting his help. Maybe because it was really cold out and I didn’t want him and Ellis to get involved when we’d soon be on our merry way. I was the one choosing to let Micah continue to nap.

Also, I felt like I was caving in to too much damsel in distress syndrome lately. So many scenarios where Kevin comes to my assistance because it’s just too hard or overwhelming while he is so capable, able to handle so much more than me. If I can’t fix something around the house, Micah immediately says, “Maybe Daddy will fix for us, Mommy? Ask Daddy!”

Maybe God was trying to teach me to work on cultivating gratitude once again. My rebellious spirit had been having a hard time being TRULY thankful for our NYC co-op this year. While once so thankful for it, I now only see its flaws, lacking the space and amenities I desperately crave, even encroaching upon my emotional health this postpartum year. And yeah yeah, I knew that others have it exponentially worse all around the world but I didn’t care.

But sitting there with my frozen butt and labia, I sure was missing home. Though small, it was toasty and it kept us safe from the elements. Together. Fine, Lord, I repent. Can Micah wake up now?

Forget 30 minutes later. Micah was sleeping a delicious sound sleep, even making sounds like he was enjoying food, it was so yummy. So deep he was grinding his teeth. I was staring at him and giving him butterfly kisses all over his face. A handsome Latino Yankee fan tried to help me. He may have been the only one to ask if I need help.

“So uh, where’s your person? Do you have uh, your person you should be able to call up for help? How can I help? You want me to carry him for you?”

(I couldn’t take him up on his offer because he was going to miss his train and Micah would wake up if I transported him into someone else’s arms. What would I do then after this man left?)

“Do you need to borrow my phone to call anyone? How far do you live?”

And later, after I told him that Micah should be waking up any minute now and thanks: “Are you from the Philippines? It’s crazy what happened out there.”

Approximately 75 minutes later, I flag down a woman exiting the train and ask her if she can send my husband a message. She let me type it out on her iPhone and assured me she would send it once she got above ground. It was just to let him know that we had arrived at 4:15 but had been on the platform so that Micah would continue sleeping.

So after a grand total of 90 minutes, I start to stir Micah awake. At this rate, he may have been able to do a record three-hour nap and I was really too cold without wearing my jacket I was using as his blanket. I hoped he was well-rested enough to not get upset…which was THE WHOLE POINT OF MY LETTING HIM NAP!

But of course, he got upset because he was still sleepy. “Waaaahhhhhh! Mommmyyyy, Mommmyyyy, carry up, carry up!” Inconsolable. My waiting out his nap was all for naught.

I ended up carrying him up the stairs while a kind older woman insisted on carrying my bags up the stairs for me. I went into the pizzeria right next to the subway stop and asked to borrow their phone. Called Kevin to come out and help me.

Soon, Kevin and Ellis came with the doublestroller to help us. I felt a little better that even with Kevin and the cozy doublestroller awaiting him like a horse and carriage, Micah demanded to be carried all the way home. I strolled Ellis while Kevin carried Micah.

Later, Kevin pointed out that I should have called him er, 90 minutes earlier from the pizza place to avoid that crazy cold waiting period.

Apparently, my brain had frozen too. I could have spared myself this 90 minutes on the ice tundra. If I had accepted that man’s offer to help, I could have made it up the stairs then called from the pizzeria! I had lamely thought that I had to get him ALL the way home – the pizzeria idea only hatched when I realized there was no way I’d make it home. D’oh! I really wasn’t thinking straight that night.

My recent battle against envy, namely house/space/amenities envy, is ongoing and sometimes very acute, but I was extra thankful that particular night for my cozy couch, warm food, and heat in our apartment.

…Even with Kevin shaking his head at me over and over again, laughing, muttering, “I can’t believe you sometimes! The things you put yourself through!”

P.S. The lady’s text message came through about an hour after we were all snug at home. “Hello, this is the lady from the subway. My phone had a malfunction and I was not able to get this message to you until now. Your wife and son are down at the subway platform. Sorry for the delay.”

Christmas Spectacular Superfan

Posted on November 26, 2013 by ajummama

“Listen to your gut!” was warring against “Don’t overthink it. Just live a little!”

I was on a Facecbook thread with a group of local mamas who were going to take Micah’s little buddies to NYC’s iconic Radio City Music Hall show, “Christmas Spectacular.” I hadn’t even thought about it since Micah wasn’t turning three until the end of November.

Gut feeling: He still too young. There will be many more opportunities for him to attend shows when he’s a bit older. Also, not exactly holding weight in the decision-making process but I can’t stomach musicals. They make me wanna yell, “Oh, UH-UH! C’mon now! Singing dialogue?! Just no!”

Live a little: I could arrange to take him alone so that I can have rare one-on-one time with him while Daddy and Ellis bond at home. A special date. It would be one special memory. He would love a musical. The theater would be so cool. And going on the subway is always a big treat for him. And you never know…maybe we won’t even be here next year so we should go while we can.

After going back and forth, I purchased the tickets. None of us mamas could work out our schedules to go together so we were each going separately on one-on-one dates with our firstborns.

I told Micah about it the week prior to attending to get the anticipation going. After all, sometimes anticipation is more exciting than the real thing.

Our day arrived.

“Mommy, we going to Christmas Show on train NOW!?”

“No, not yet. When I pick you up from school today! Mommy will park the car and then Micah and Mommy go on train to see the sho-o-o-w!”

“Oh, THAT’s riggghhhht!” (One of his current favorite sayings)

After collecting him from school, I wonder if I should take the stroller into Manhattan. Hmmm…great for emergencies like if he insists I carry him but such a pain. Direct ride into Rockefeller Center, minimal walking.

Will take a risk and leave the stroller in the car. What could go wrong? (mmhmm…famous last words)

Big Boy Micah and I walk to the subway in the howling wind. While waiting on the platform, Micah and I sing and dance until I say, “Wait, Micah, let’s not get too wild. We have to stand in the middle, far away from the train tracks, OK? Let’s not dance while waiting for the train. I don’t want you to get too excited and go near those yellow lines.”

But then I would forget and we would sing and dance again (in the middle of the platform) until he said, “Mommy, ‘member? Stop singing. No dancing. We waiting for train. No yellow lines. Mommyyyyy – you forgot?”

As always, he enjoyed the ride so much. Pointing out people’s shoes, “I like that one Mommy! We have that one at ho-ome!” Looking all around and telling stories. Hugging me, strumming my side fatty fats with his little hands, and laughing with his hand over his mouth like a cartoon critter.

Once we got off?

He enjoyed himself TOO much at the underground concourse level of Rock Center. He would not hold my hand as he ran around among the bustling lunch crowd. Oh, Lord, help me. He was so small in the crowd but he did not have a care in the world while I feared losing him.

“MICAH! You HAVE to hold my hand!” I was carrying a mess of bags as usual, all our winter gear, sippy cup, and snacks.

He would smirk and leap forward and run away while I chased him down. “MICAH! You have to listen to Mommy!”

He slowed down when he looked like he had seen the pearly gates of heaven. It was a store called GameStop. He pressed his face and hands against the store window, completely mesmerized, “Mommy, I want to go in there. I want to play that one,” about the huge video game display.

“Micah, we have to go to show now, remember? That’s why we took the train? To come see the show. Maybe after the show, I can bring you here?”

We get through a very short line. We look around the gorgeous lobby. He refuses to go near Santa who is awaiting little boys and girls on the floor below. He would like to visit the candy bins instead.

I wasn’t planning to buy him any overpriced candy but hey, it’s a special occasion and he looks really excited so I let him scoop out some gummy candies and end up paying $10.98 for a handful in a cellophane bag. $10.98.

We squeeze ourselves onto an elevator to get to our seats. One lady in the back yells, “Hey, you, the person who just got on. Get off!” I want to shout back at her some choice expletives, including a lecture on entitlement but then I remember I am on a date with my boy, so I play the part of a mature adult and declare, “Sorry, I am with my toddler and we need a few minutes to settle in before the show so we needed to squeeze in.” It wasn’t even as crowded as some NYC elevators get. I think I was too nice (why did I apologize?) to that spoiled lady but I digress.

We get seated. I’m relieved that I can still see everything clearly from my seats even with my eye issues which made me have to wear glasses all month. I look over at his little face sitting in the theater. This was really special to be on a real date with my firstborn. Look at that little face, entranced by this beautiful theater. What a memory.

In fact, hmm…his face looks downright frozen with anticipation.

Theater turns pitch black.

Show starts. Booming intro music. Aww yeah, great acoustics.

Sound of a baby wailing hysterically. Not a baby but maybe a toddler.

MY toddler!

I turn to see Micah horrified and bawling uncontrollably.

“waaahhhhhhhh! MOMMYYYYYY! I want to go home. I want to go home now!”

I scoop him up and run out the theater. I sit down on the floor right outside the theater, rocking him back and forth.

“Micah! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were scared! You’ve been to the circus before and planetarium too with your friend A! Was it too dark? Was it too loud?”

“Mommmyyyyyyy! Too dark! Too loud. I want to go on train and go to my home!” He is still bawling.

Some tourists are getting escorted to their seats and look over at me consoling Micah.

“Micah, it will not be so dark if we stay in there a bit longer! Remember how much you loved the circus with Daddy, Mommy and Ellis? It was dark there too but it was so fun! We came on train to watch this show. Mommy bought candy to eat during the show. Your candy is still in the theater!”

“Daddy? I want Dadddyyyyy!”

One of the ushers is trying to help us out.

“Excuse me, where can I go to get my refund? There is no way he will sit through this. It is too much for him. He was NOT having it as soon as the show started. Too loud, too dark.”

“Oh, there are usually no refunds. Who did you purchase through?”

“Ticketmaster.”

“We wouldn’t even be able to issue you a refund then. You would have to work it out with them.”

NO REFUNDS? Micah, sorry bro, we staying.

“Micah, do you want to try sitting in the way back where there are some lights in the theater? And special chairs? Let’s try that. If you don’t like it, we can run back out again, ok?”

The usher takes us into the nosebleediest corner back seats of the entire theater with some dim lights on the ceiling. “Micah, how’s this? See there are some lights up here?” Few seconds pause.

Booming sounds. Theater gets darker again.

“Mommmyyyyy! I want to go home! Let’s go home. Daddyyyyyy!”

We rush back out of the theater. Micah is still crying. I’m thinking about joining him.

“Micah, Mommy can’t go home right now because when Micah was crying, Mommy left all our stuff on our seats so I have to grab them first, OK?”

Another usher tries to help. “Hey Michael. You wanna stay with me so your Mommy can get her stuff?”

He starts crying more. “Mommyyyy!”

“Micah, if you stay here with Mr. _____, I will go grab our coats and bags, okay?”

The usher held him in his arms like a long lost son while I went back in to retrieve our things.

Micah was starting to calm down. We sat on the floor outside the theater and made a call to Daddy. “Daddy?! I was crying so much!”

Another usher came and explained that the other parts of the show won’t be as dark. “Mommy, I have to pee pee.”

We go into the restroom and Micah is back to himself. “Mommy, here is not loud and dark.” I mutter under my breath, “I’m not about to pay good money to stay in the women’s lounge, boy.”

“Yes, Micah, if we stay in the theater without leaving so much, it won’t be as dark in there, too.”

“Mommy!? Remember when I was crying so much?” Is this guy for real? Yes, I remember! BECAUSE IT HAPPENED 0.8 minutes ago, son!

We make another attempt to go back into the theater with the usher’s guidance. We see multiple Santas dancing (creepy, I have to admit) in the pitch black theater with small spotlights on them and Micah starts crying again so I immediately run out, carrying him, perhaps for the fifth time.

I feel like crying too. From weariness. From beating myself up for not listening to my gut. My glasses fog up. It was such a cold day and he was already a handful to chase even before the show had started. I had NO IDEA he would get scared at the theater since he’s been to puppet shows and other shows in dark theaters!

“Micah, please try to be brave. I know you’re scared. But Mommy is with you, holding you tight. GOD is with you always, too. You don’t have to be scared. It’s all for fun. Remember we wanted to watch the Christmas show together. You don’t have to stay if you are really scared but we can at least try to watch some parts of the show. Mommy’s stuff is in there again so we can’t go home.”

“Mommy, you need to get our stuff? I weel stay with that ahjushee who carried me befo’!”

It went on like that for a few more segments. In and out, in and out. A nice young usher helped us out a lot by telling us which segments may be less scary. He even gave Micah a “Superfan” pin to pin on his sweater. Ohhhh, the irony. Superfan!? I thanked him profusely and took a picture of him and Micah after the show since we were practically family after that ordeal.

Micah the “Superfan” and Mr. Jeremy, our kind usher

Micah was able to enjoy the nativity scene. “Mommy, camel!” and some of the fake snow.

When we were leaving, Micah was back to himself, even stopping to dance and ham it up. I was taking deep breaths but relieved that we caught more than 60% of the show, and that Micah was able to be persuaded to give scary things a chance.

I had forgotten how small and young he still is. Because he’s become so Little Man-like with the things he says these days, I was treating him like I was at a movie with a peer, practically asking him how he’s liking the latest developments on “Scandal.” Just when I treat him like he’s grown, he reminds me again that he is still a young tender who needs his Mommy.

On our elevator ride down, a tour guide asks me how he’s doing. She is guiding a group of tourists and explains to them, “Yes, remember we saw this little guy having a hard time before?” and something about, “All kids are different. Some little ones can handle it.”

Apparently, we had become one of the attractions on the behind-the-scenes Radio City Music Hall tours.

Of course, I feel all defensive and want to explain, “He’s been to the circus and planetarium before and he was fine, I swear. It was a total surprise he got so scared,” but I have some sense.

I’m sure the senior citizens from Nebraska weren’t interested in hearing about his developmental phases.

Before we got on the subway, Micah pauses and says, “Mommy! You said you gon’ take me to video store to play game after the show!”

I lie and say, “Yes, Micah. I tried to but the store was closed. We try again next time, maybe with Daddy?”

On the subway, Micah says, “Mommy, the game store? Sometimes, it’s open, Mommy. I know.”

P.S. The hardest (and coldest) part of that day hadn’t happened yet. Remember how I left that stroller in the car? I hope to continue in another post but it may have surpassed my public urination day in suckiness, though I suppose it could be a toss up.

Christmas Spectacular. Special memories, indeedy.

11.12.13

Posted on November 12, 2013 by ajummama

Memorializing life brings me some strange comfort. Ever since I was a little girl, I had a compulsion to write down even the most mundane details of life so that there was proof that it happened if I ever needed to look back.

I didn’t want to lose moments. I sensed how fleeting everything was. I was and am super sentimental. Pictures of my kids mean everything to me. I can hardly throw away y’alls’ Christmas cards if there are pictures of your families on them. Last year, I told Kevin that I threw them out but he found them in the bottom of my sock/underwear drawer.

I admit I am lazy about cooking and cleaning but when it comes to taking pictures or staying connected with friends (though it is getting harder), I am diligent.

In elementary school, I would write down what percentage of my day was Happy and what percentage was Sad. Sometimes, I would start new journals with a physical description of one Jihee Lee lest I ever suffered from full-blown amnesia and had no idea who I was.

As an adult, I don’t get to indulge as much, but I still try to do brief “time capsules” like “Hurricane Irene Hardly Strikes,” “33 Miners Rescued while I was 33 weeks pregnant,” “March Madness Begins,” or even about friends’ milestones like “J’s first car” or “Dr. J’s Match Day!” In the era of Facebook with quickie records via status updates, I hardly old-skool journal any more but I miss it.

Sometimes, when life got too frantic or swallowed me up, I would fret that I didn’t get to record more and the husband would reassure me, “If there’s anything you need to beat yourself up over, it’s NOT that you didn’t do more memorializing. Uh, trust me.” (Those double negatives are confusing to read while Micah is getting comforted with an extra episode of Little Einsteins and baby bro is entertaining himself in his crib after waking up moments ago. I’m gonna have to go fetch him right quick.)

Today is 11.12.13. That is too fwine of a date to go without at least a mini-memorial. I haven’t been able to write REAL posts lately but here is a brief time capsule of this special date:

First time driving since that car/driver struck me two Mondays ago.

First snow of the year (I think?). Micah and I took turns catching the falling snow on our walk over to our parking spot.

“Mommy, the snow won’t let me catch it in my hands!”

“Because it’s falling on your nose, Micah!”

“Mommy, it’s on your eyes now!” He had so much fun he didn’t want to get into the car.

First time getting That Call from school. Had to go pick up a suddenly sick Micah after we had been fussing over sicky baby bro this past weekend.

Second son walking so wobblingly (?) from couch to the safe haven of my bressessess, exactly like his ever-cautious brother at this age. They are so opposite but so similar in this way of not yet walking at 13 months because they not tryna faceplant. Memories of Micah trying out his first wobbles, walking from Daddy to Uncle AO while some football game was on in the background.

Getting to discuss love and forgiveness and being countercultural with some women.

Tonight will be snuggling with my Sick and Less Sick little boys while their dad is at the first of his office holiday parties. They will be coughing directly into my nostrils and open mouth and wiping Beethoven-like slobber all over my already crusty shirt while I chase them with Kleenex boxes, but I’m ready for it again. Daddy desperately deserves a break after taking extra good care of all of us. Some symptoms of depression reared their ugly heads after that driver didn’t see me. I don’t even like to call it a car accident as two cars were not involved. Just one car and my body.

11.12.13. Consider yourself memorialized.

Just “Cute” Me!

Posted on November 1, 2013 by ajummama

Dear Micah,
Thanks to you, I’ve been gifted with a memorably cute week, with some trick-or-treating as the grand finale. When Ellis joined our family, Grandma Lee called it while looking at the Kim boys: “Alvin Simon Theodore!” so that’s what y’all went as this Halloween.

Halloween 2013

Yesterday, the night before Halloween, was my first Parents’ Night. There have been so many moments, following your birth, where I thought, “I have NOW arrived. I am REALLY a mom.” One such moment was when we visited a baby music/dance class at Dragonfly Dulou in Los Feliz, CA on your first trip back to LA, to escape the many snowstorms of NYC. You were ridiculously young to be in the class, even for overeager modern parenting or Korean parenting (achievement-obsessed) standards. Grandma Lee came with me and she cracked up, commenting, “I dunno how much baby Micah enjoyed this class since he’s still a fetus but his Mama was delirious with excitement throughout the whole thing. I was just watching your face.” I nearly teared up as we danced around, making silly sounds and trying out musical toys, looking good and crazy. I AM IN A BABY MUSIC CLASS WITH MY SON! I AM A MAMA. I AM FOREVER CHANGED.

I felt like this again last night, attending PARENTS’ NIGHT as a newbie. Daddy stayed back with you and your brother, while I was gifted with the chance to enjoy a nice walk to your school, in perfect fall weather. I thought, “This is a trip. I am attending my son’s PARENTS’ NIGHT with other PARENTS. I am REALLY a mama now, maybe a year away from wearing jewelry he will make with flour and bake in the oven, under the careful supervision of his teachers.”

Naturally, I sat in the front row. Just so you know, all the cool kids in school sit in the front row, so as not to miss anything the teachers have to say, or get distracted from watching the people who sit in front of you. Reminds me of Grandpa Lee getting pissed when someone too tall sat in front of him at your uncle’s 6th grade graduation. We laughed because Mr. Too Tall happened to be Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, his classmate’s very famous daddy. But I digress.

I listened to your teachers explain early childhood development theory, how even during something as simple as snacktime, you are learning so much. I was touched by how much your teachers genuinely desire for you and your little classmates to feel valued as a member of their school community. I soaked up every word, and nearly teared up hearing about the details of your mornings, including how you and your classmates are learning to develop conclusions on your own: “That red paint and yellow paint that Miss B poured separately made the new orange paint!” Miss B also informed us that soon we are going to take a “field trip” around the neighborhood, on a Shape Walk, a trip that will make you guys look for shapes everywhere you go. Mommy and Ellis will go on that little trip with you, if we don’t cramp your style too much. They ended with a slideshow presentation and when I saw you up on the screen, larger than life, I just felt so lucky to be your mama, sitting in that front middle seat in that auditorium.

yup, yo mama took a picture of your picture, from the front row. no shame.

I have to admit that for a few months, I found myself stuck in a rut of “Get It Over With” parenting. I wanted to get all the tough stuff over with just so I can exhale and rest and tune out, fast forward to the end of the day when I can just have some peace and quiet. Mealtime battles, discipline issues, answering your many questions from the kitchen while nervously running back and forth from the living room to make sure you are not closing Ellis’ eyelids shut, talking about, “You can’t watch TV, baby! It’s mine!”, repeating myself and still not getting listened to. I confess that I just wanted to phone it in. And I sighed. A LOT.

What helped me slowly START getting out of the rut was you. You made me marvel again the way I used to during your earlier years, before I let the wear and tear of daily demands of two toddlers get at me. When you were an infant, or even a less verbal, more baby-like toddler, everything you did was amazing and I had boundless energy because of this marveling and wonder. You helped me remember to marvel again as you’ve been growing up so swiftly these days, sometimes in the course of one day.

Your humor is coming along quite nicely. How did my no-necked, soft little baby with fine wisps of hair, develop such a sense of humor. You think you George W. Bush, giving everyone a nickname? I ask you who you like to play with at school and you get that mischievous smile on your face before you answer, “I play with Carry Up and Phone.” Turns out you like to play with a little girl named Carrie (maybe because you are drawn to her name, as you love to beg Mommy to “Carry Up” especially when she is wearing your little brother and steering the heavy stroller) and a sweet guy named Cameron (“Mommy, I call him Camera, like CameraPhone. I call him Phone now.”)

You love to dance HARD when we play some of your favorite songs. A couple days ago you would mimic Robin Thicke singing “hey hey hey..” in “Blurred Lines,” squealing, “This is my Daddy’s song!” You sing songs that you learned at school, songs that Mommy doesn’t know. I heard you sing the end of one school song, “…October brings the harvest…” and when I tried to learn it you said, “No, Mommy, don’t sing! I sing it.” And of course, “Don’t Sing, Mommy!” is not complete without a “Don’t Dance, Mommy!”

I don’t know where you learn some things that I’ve never heard you say before. A few weeks ago, your teacher told me that you fell off the tricycle during playground time, but that it was a complete accident and that you were fine. I later asked you more about that accident and you finally told me more about what happens at school. You calmly shared that your classmate hits you, but “not everyday, Mommy! He only hit me sometimes.”

Upon hearing that, Micah, Mommy’s body got hot with fury. I wanted to do what I usually want to do when I get furious. Strip off all my clothes and beat my chest, howl, revert to animal DNA.

“Did he hit you today?”

“Yes, he hit me today but he only hit me sometimes, Mommy.”

“Did he hit you in the face?” (Really trying not to rip off my clothes as my body heat rises)

“No, he didn’t Mommy! He hit me in my nose. Are you mad Mommy? Are you mad at me Mommy?”

“OF COURSE NOT, MICAH! Where are you getting this from, Micah? Why would Mommy be mad at YOU for telling me like a big boy what happens at school. Mommy feels mad and sad right now but not at you. I feel mad that I couldn’t protect you. I feel sad that my Micah got hurt and I didn’t even know. I will NEVER be mad when you tell me what happens at school. I sometimes get mad when you don’t listen to Mommy but when you tell me that someone hit you or pushed you, I am only PROUD that you were brave enough to tell me.”

“Is Daddy proud of me, too-oo?”

“OF COURSE, MICAH! DADDY IS SO PROUD OF YOU!”

“Do you love me Mommy? You love me?”

You slay me with these questions. How do you even know to ask such things? Apparently I knew nothing about nearly three-year-olds before I had kids. I didn’t expect such profound questions so early on.

I just wanted to say thanks to you, my dear first baby, Micah, Mommy had an extra full, extra cute week. I love you always and I am proud of you always just because you are you, not because of anything you do. You can ask me about that as much as you want, but I hope you know it and feel it…always.

cuteness overload

Tree Skirt

Posted on December 25, 2012 by ajummama

As a follow-up to my “Starting with Stockings” post, here are the stockings we’ve added to our home, as a commitment to create holiday traditions for our third-generation Korean-American boys.

I never thought I’d go Mrs. Claus but I chose her at the end because choices were very limited and I am the mama after all.

KK went Santa. Clear choice for him, even from the beginning of our deliberation. Never any wavering. Always steady.

We chose Black Bear for Micah as his beloved best friend is his Pooh Bear.

We chose this Rudolph for Ellis because he currently looks like him. Plush.

We are FAMILY. Micah enjoys pointing at each stocking everyday, doing roll call on his family members.

I also learned just THIS YEAR that the bottom covering for hiding Christmas tree roots actually has a name. “Tree skirt” for all you other latent FOBs. We had to stop displaying the cards on the tree skirt as more and more started coming in and it looked like a hot mess:

Each year, we will buy one ornament for each boy. Bear is the obvious choice for Micah once again, and this other little creature looks like Ellis.

Aight, I am not enjoying this process of posting pictures via blog. It is taking way too long. I bet I’m doing something wrong. I’mma take it to Facebook instead as that is what I’m used to and I also get to control who sees a gang of pictures of my boys.

Merry Christmas to all!

Starting with Stockings

Posted on December 5, 2012 by ajummama

Growing up, I felt acute loneliness during the holidays as our nuclear family of four was on our own in the States, with all of our relatives back in the mothaland. We had second cousins but they were all first cousins with each other so I often felt like we were the outsiders when they were kind enough to include us in their family gatherings. The holidays also meant my parents had to work extra long hours at whichever small business they were running at the time. I remember my mama literally collapsing when she came home from the store. Though my exhausted parents managed to put up a tree each year and we attended Christmas and New Year’s church services, a melancholy would wash over me as it felt like I was missing out on something magical that other families, like those on tv, as well as those I went to school with, would be partaking in from Thanksgiving through the New Year.

The beauty of having my own little family now is that we can create our own magic and wonder during the holiday season. I want my boys to be in awe of this time, to associate it with lots of time doting on each other and truly being merry. So many traditions to choose from! Or we can create our own (like lobsters for Christmas perhaps and doing an Advent study together each night).

While still deliberating on what type of tree to bring home, Kevin and I decided late last night that we were going to order our very first personalized family Christmas stockings. We figured it would take about 15 minutes before we went to bed, but this is how it went down:

K: Okay, Jihee-yah. Choose yours. (handing me the laptop)

J: This should be fast, uh, cuz I’m trying to watch Parenthood. Lotta them are already sold out so fewer choices to go over. Since I’m the only girl, I should get the ballerina or doll stocking. I did do gymnastics but no ballet so I’mma go with doll. Yes, I like that. I am the DOLL among you mens.”

K: Okay. You gotta choose light-skinned or dark-skinned doll, Jihee-yah.

J: Come on now. Do you even have to ask? Do you KNOW me?

K: Yes, poseur, but the dark-skinned doll is DARK. Sorry to say but you look more like the light-skinned.

J: Yes, Connecticut, I see what you mean, but the SPIRIT is dark-skinned so put the dark one in our cart. No further discussion needed.

K: Wait, you sure you wanna go with Doll because now I see that there is an Angel and you always going on about your chunsah birthday.” (My birthday is 10.04 and if you say 1004 in Korean, it is the same word for angel – “chunsah”.)

J: This is true – and there is a light-skin, dark-skin option for Angel, too. But what if I choose Angel and then that choice makes me die early and y’all be crying saying she should’ve gone Doll, not Angel that one Christmas?

(Kevin does not dignify with a response.)

K: I’m thinking reindeer stocking for Micah.

J: But the reindeer is a baby so let’s go reindeer for Ellis.

K: I was thinking snowman for Ellis because he fat. Tri-rolls like Ellis. They got same body – look!

J: True again! And the reindeer look real sweet like Micah and resembling him in the eyes. You sure you don’t wanna go with Train for Micah though? He loves choo-choo!

K: But what’s train got to do with Christmas for real though?

J: True true true. You on a roll!

K: I’m choosing the Santa for myself because I am the head of the family.

J: Right, obvious choice. What color should our names be on the stockings? You know Koreans say writing your name in red is imminent death.

K: Screw that. We’re going with red because the green looks stupid.

J: Should my stocking say Mommy, Mama or Umma? Micah or MLK? Ellis or E.Z.?

More deliberating and yawning. WA-A-A-Y MORE THAN 15 MINUTES LATER:

J: Cool, so when are they arriving?

K: Never.

J: Why?! Noooo! Did they get sold out while we were deliberating?

K: I read the reviews. All recent customers said poor quality. They suck.

So back to the drawing board tonight. Gotta get some traditions going ASAP. Already December 5th!

Easter: Then and Now

Posted on April 9, 2012 by ajummama

Easter 2011:

Easter 2012:

Goodbye 2011!

Posted on January 1, 2012 by ajummama

You were a beautiful year. We will ALWAYS remember you fondly. Hope to write more in 2012. May your 2012 be amazing and hopeful. [Note: It is the Year of the Dragon so it should be the best year ever, naturally.]

not pictured: bubbles

This toddler needed a mental health break while shopping in Jersey. Luckily, some fish helped us out.

Just a second ago, he was grinning and staring at his feet being measured. Then he saw mama come back in the store and realized he was missing her after all.