That’s Ned Beatty and Eleanor Roosevelt, in case you don’t recognize the visuals.
Being liberals, we have liberals among our friends and we all say, if our children turn out to be gay, we will be supportive and love them. I say, which parents are strong enough for the ugly children? Someone has to have them. Why not us? Where is their parade?
Just kidding. My babies are totally hot. I only bear sexy babies.
With all the crazytown shenanigans at home, sometimes, First Son gets the shaft in terms of individual attention. It’s tough when more than one kid cries, because I’m like, which one do I take care of first? (I’d says it’s like Sophie’s Choice, but that analogy is more apropos when there’s no children involved, like if I’m extremely torn between getting Tast-D Lite versus Pinkberry, that’s a Sophie’s Choice, you feel me?)
Anyway, in the middle of crazytown, sometimes, I feel torn in several directions and lose my patience when First Son acts out, which really, if you’re really paying attention to him, he behaves like Gentleman Baby. When you don’t, it can be bad. I lose it and curse. Argh.
I hugged him last night after a mini-blow-up and told him I really hope he remembers sitting together, singing and playing, the good times that far outnumber the bad moments rather than the times I turn into Atila the Hun and curse a blue streak.
He did a sketch on MadTV my cousin Aimee described to me that I cannot find online. (Please send me a link if you can!) The premise is a Korean-American guy who can’t really speak Korean gets a job to coach a Korean action star on a movie set, so the action star is speaking fluently to Bobby Lee, who can only manage to say “Bop moh goh?” over and over again.
Bop moh goh simply means “eat rice?” and I think the sentence structure is like the one you’d use with a toddler. My cousin and I were cracking about this sketch, but we’re both like who find this funny except other monolingual Korean-Americans? That’s a teeny audience to please, dude. Anyway, as I’ve mentioned, I haven’t even seen the sketch, but I thought of it yesterday and started laughing by myself…which always makes you look like a crazy person.
So after my c-section, I still have a belly and it’s taking a long time to go away. Went to the doctor to make sure everything is kosher and while it’s a bit abnormal, I’m still good to go. I report back to my mom and she says “Maybe he left scissors in there.”
I sincerely love my ma at times like these.
Doing the first shift of twin night duty, with Twilight keeps playing repeat. The twins get to watch the first line of “Who’s he” and Edward’s first reaction to Bella of looking totally repulsed and trying not to vomit. Oh twins, you are in for a treat. The subtitle could be “How Stalkers Love.”
One of the twins has very light-colored eyes. I tell her “oh when your eyes are amber, you seem okay. You’ve fed. But when they go black, that means you need to hunt.”
She doesn’t know what the heck I’m talking about.
On American Idol, Jimmy Iovine, the music producer who works on the show, analyzes the singers’ performance every week. He said in an offhand remark while assessing Heejun, the Korean current top ten singer, that he strongly believes that we will shortly have an Asian pop star singer. Cannot lie. That makes me feel good.
On another note, there was one particular BAD pregnancy night of physical misery where I broke down in tears. Heejun also wept, having made the next round (I’m sure being on that show is crazy intense). I turned to Husband and said, The Night Koreans Cry. It is a very intense night.
When I was 8, we went to Korea. Back in those days, the flight took 22 hours, cowabunga, so the jet lag back was mega killer, or at least it seemed so to me. At dinner, my head kept flinging down to the ground, gravity pulling down on a bowling ball sort of thing. I remember having dinner at home with my folks and uncle (my emo and cousins Ed and Aimee were still in Seoul). My uncle was being so sweet, offering to take us out to Chinese so I could order Pu Pu Platter (my favorite, on account of the variety and fire) and then out to Fox and the Hound. Way to tempt a third-grader. I was so thrilled, trying to rally, but all that head-flailing just led to an early bedtime. I felt so guilty, like I was letting my uncle down. I figured he had been lonely with all of us gone and wanted to go out.
This month I realized, what grown man wants to see a cartoon movie? (I mean, from the older generation). He was probably just trying to help me out, proposing an exciting night so I’d stay awake and get over jet lag faster. Duh. I just let go of some of the guilt. Yes. We’re all healing.
Dude, in Walking Dead, I think Officer Rick shows good dad instincts. Can’t help it. Whenever Rick throws himself down as zombie bait in order to help out a kid caught up in a zombie mob, I think, “Awww, what a good dad!”
The day I got released from the hospital (Twins arrived early, more on that later.), I helped pack, then the next day we moved to our new apartment. We weren’t that into it — when we saw it, the tenants were mega-messy — dirty underwear on every radiator; the location seemed the middle of nowhere. It was affordable with three bedrooms, but it felt so far from everything we were familiar with. Turns out no one wants to rent to people with babies, so we kept getting shut out of other places, and with contractions coming hot and heavy, we had no choice but to go with dirty-underwear-on-radiator place.
Husband handled the move as I tried to take it easy, wrapping up work projects I didn’t get to before I headed to the hospital. Funny enough, it turns out I love this place. The neighborhood is dominated my immigrants and hipster types. At 8:30 pm every night, I can hear the call to prayer at some mosque nearby. And the best part? We have THREE bedrooms! I’m not raising a gajillion children in a studio — yay!
When I was growing up, as I mentioned, i was obsessed with the high-end mini dollhouses, as I mentioned. We were not loaded when I was a kid (not that we are now…) so my mom made a doll house out of a ramen box. It was a six-room deal, with windows cut out, couches made out of cardboard, etc. I think she even made curtains. It was, in retrospect, pretty amazing and is a great memory. Of course, at the time, there was no way I would love it because it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Reminds me of Eddie Murphy’s old routine on how when he wanted McDonald’s burgers, his mom told him she would make him burgers that was better than McDonald’s.
Anyway, she is at times, a challenging mom to have. Other times, pretty flossy.