I can't believe it's already the end of November. I had meant to write so many times since the last time I logged in. Chris and I had a funny fight a bunch of weeks ago. I went back to Toronto to visit my family. Lily has since started crawling (as opposed to scooting via the 'army shuffle'), standing against furniture, and a tooth has FINALLY poked out past the gums! Where does the time go? Thanksgiving is already behind us and now is it Christmas Madness! (One of my favourite times of year.)
Next month we have Chris' birthday, our second anniversary, and Christmas. I was really stumped for present ideas, but then Chris decided he could not live any longer without an XBox. What the?!?!? I have no idea where that came from. Apparently he saw a game- CAll of Duty 4, that he just had to have. He is such a sucker for commercials. XBox marketing- Well Done. You have caused another one to bite the dust. So, we actually have a Nintendo Wii, and a Playstation2, and do we use any of those? NO. But Chris said he would sell the other two video game consoles on EBay, and he even went Black Friday shopping to get the XBox. Chris HATES shopping. I think I mentioned this before. But, he now LOVES Black Friday shopping.
He got off of work at 2:30am, Black Friday morn, and so he proceeded to Walmart on his way home. The doors opened at 3, which is about the time he got there, he calmly walked over to the electronics department, started the line (!), and managed to get one of the two XBoxes (with a $50 gift card to boot). He had to stand in line for two hours, but he stood there in amazement as he watched fights almost break out, and people running around in frantic insanity to get that $3 item that was once a whopping $10. I love my husband. He is an action man through and through.
Anyway, Lily is about to wake up from her little nap, and we are going to try to put a dent in our Christmas Shopping list. Happy shopping to the rest of you out there.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Monday, October 1, 2007
Family Time
I came home from work at about 2 this afternoon and Chris had just woken up an hour before as he got to bed at 5 this morning. I have no problem with his sleeping in- it's literally part of his job. And that's why I go to work on Monday mornings- because he is always asleep. But I got home, and he was on the computer doing his homework. Not only does he work about 48 hours a week, but he also goes to school on Monday nights from 5 to 10. What a trooper. But with his schedule, and with us having Bible Studies on Tuesday nights (which happens to be Lily hanging out with her Grandparents night), making quality family time is an art form for us.
So Chris was working on his paper, and I suggested that he watch Lily while I ran to the supermarket to get some Hamburger Helper and apples (two things I started craving since earlier today). He kinda grimaced, which made me grimace, cause none of us wanted to have to 'deal with the baby'. Not that she's bad, and not that we don't both adore her. Obviously Chris wanted to focus on his work, and I just didn't want to lug our 17 lbs baby around to the supermarket if I didn't have to. Getting her in and out of the Jeep is one of my least favorite activities. It's right up there with ironing, unloading the dishwasher, folding laundry... you get the picture. Anyhow, Chris suggested we all go to the supermarket TOGETHER as a family. I was so taken aback. This man HATES anything that has to do with shopping. He goes into a mall twice a year- once to get me a birthday present in January. And one more time in December to get me an Anniversary and Christmas present. Oh wait, now it's three times- cause he also got me an amazing Mother's Day present this year, and will continue to do so- cause I keep having his kids! Anyway, the man hates shopping. Because you call it 'grocery shopping', he hates that too. He automatically started to retract his words, but it was too late. I was already too happy.
But to make life nicer for him, I suggested we go to the supermarket that's a half mile from our house, and that we walk with the dogs. That did it for him- he was not going shopping- he was going to walk the dogs and spend time with his family!
This is the first time we have gone for a walk with the dogs and with Lily. She LOVED it! I walked Meeklo while pushing the stroller, and Chris walked Mally, who is now about 130 lbs. Man, did we have a great time! Lily was all alert in her stroller- she did not want to lean back in case she missed any action. She just stared at Meeklo who walked so obediently beside her. Mally was strutting her stuff toom which is so cute, cause being as long as she is- she doesn't so much 'strut' as she does 'slink'- like a ginormous Slinky. And Chris and I just chatted and laughed at the dogs and the baby, and I could not have been happier.
I have been fighting a losing battle with the dogs lately, and we were finally and happily co-existing! I have had such crazy guilt about the dogs because I don't spend nearly enough time with them now that Lily is around, and Chris can't spend as much time with them as he would like because, well, he's never home! And what with the insane summer heat- walking the dogs is NOT an option for me. I had mentioned to Chris that I thought we were bad dog owners and that we should give the dogs away. He was not happy about that. Then when I found out I was pregnant again, the thought of having to take care of Lily, then the new baby, and my original Big Baby (yes, Chris), AND the two dogs, and we have 10 fish, and it's my job to feed em- it was all a bit much to say the least. But Chris did not want to hear any more about getting rid of the dogs. He was actually really very upset that I kept bringing it up. He said he would try to do more with the dogs, and that once the weather got better that we would be able to walk them. And we did. And so now all is well in the Watson Home, and a new Family Time tradition has been born.
So Chris was working on his paper, and I suggested that he watch Lily while I ran to the supermarket to get some Hamburger Helper and apples (two things I started craving since earlier today). He kinda grimaced, which made me grimace, cause none of us wanted to have to 'deal with the baby'. Not that she's bad, and not that we don't both adore her. Obviously Chris wanted to focus on his work, and I just didn't want to lug our 17 lbs baby around to the supermarket if I didn't have to. Getting her in and out of the Jeep is one of my least favorite activities. It's right up there with ironing, unloading the dishwasher, folding laundry... you get the picture. Anyhow, Chris suggested we all go to the supermarket TOGETHER as a family. I was so taken aback. This man HATES anything that has to do with shopping. He goes into a mall twice a year- once to get me a birthday present in January. And one more time in December to get me an Anniversary and Christmas present. Oh wait, now it's three times- cause he also got me an amazing Mother's Day present this year, and will continue to do so- cause I keep having his kids! Anyway, the man hates shopping. Because you call it 'grocery shopping', he hates that too. He automatically started to retract his words, but it was too late. I was already too happy.
But to make life nicer for him, I suggested we go to the supermarket that's a half mile from our house, and that we walk with the dogs. That did it for him- he was not going shopping- he was going to walk the dogs and spend time with his family!
This is the first time we have gone for a walk with the dogs and with Lily. She LOVED it! I walked Meeklo while pushing the stroller, and Chris walked Mally, who is now about 130 lbs. Man, did we have a great time! Lily was all alert in her stroller- she did not want to lean back in case she missed any action. She just stared at Meeklo who walked so obediently beside her. Mally was strutting her stuff toom which is so cute, cause being as long as she is- she doesn't so much 'strut' as she does 'slink'- like a ginormous Slinky. And Chris and I just chatted and laughed at the dogs and the baby, and I could not have been happier.
I have been fighting a losing battle with the dogs lately, and we were finally and happily co-existing! I have had such crazy guilt about the dogs because I don't spend nearly enough time with them now that Lily is around, and Chris can't spend as much time with them as he would like because, well, he's never home! And what with the insane summer heat- walking the dogs is NOT an option for me. I had mentioned to Chris that I thought we were bad dog owners and that we should give the dogs away. He was not happy about that. Then when I found out I was pregnant again, the thought of having to take care of Lily, then the new baby, and my original Big Baby (yes, Chris), AND the two dogs, and we have 10 fish, and it's my job to feed em- it was all a bit much to say the least. But Chris did not want to hear any more about getting rid of the dogs. He was actually really very upset that I kept bringing it up. He said he would try to do more with the dogs, and that once the weather got better that we would be able to walk them. And we did. And so now all is well in the Watson Home, and a new Family Time tradition has been born.
Saturday, September 8, 2007
The 13 Month Club
So, now that I am officially going to have a baby 13 months after my first one, I have been on a subconscious mission to find people who have also had babies 13 months apart, or are children born 13 months apart from their siblings. This so called mission actually helped me to discover that my older sister and brother are 15 months apart, and that my older brother and I are also 15 months apart. My brother was born in October of 1979 and I was born in January of 1981. Obviously that's not a full two years, but when people ask me how many years are between my brother and I- I say 'two years.' Well, no longer my friends. From now on, the answer is giong to be '15 months'. To think- it only took me 26 years to figure the math out on that one! (and I'm asian! that' s not right.) Or, I guess it actually took me this moment in my life to actually care.
When I wasn't sure whether or not I was pregnant or not, I talked to a girlfriend of mine about my fears. She already has one, and is not planning to have any more cause her pregnancy and post-pregnancy were very traumatic experiences. (The doctor didn't take the whole placenta out. Enough said.) Anyway, so I am telling her about my apprehension about having a baby so soon after just having had one, and she tells me that she and her brother are 13 months apart. Really? I was intrigued. She said that her and her brother were very close and always had been, and that her brother had a great sense of humour about being a 'Love Child'.
Love Child. That sounds so much better than 'Accident', which my husband and I will NEVER call our baby. Anyway, for some reason, that made me feel so much better. When my husband and I told his dad and step mom that we were pregnant again, my step-mother-in-law told me that she and her sister are 13 months apart. This was awesome. I knew these people existed, I just didn't think I knew any. When I was in grade school, there were these two kids- Isabelle and Eric. (I can't believe I remember their names!) They were brother and sister, both born in 1981, but they weren't twins and they were both in my class. I had a VERY hard time wrapping this around my young little head. They were 11 months apart. I have to admit that I am VERY glad my babies won't be 11 months apart. That's just too crazy.
Then, for the first time in my twenty-six years of life, I realized that my sister and older brother were fifteen months apart, and that my older brother and I were also fifteen months apart. The math between my sister and brother didn't really come as a surprise to me because my sister was born in 1978 and my brother was born in 1979. But I was born in 1981 and that makes it look like I am two years younger than my brother. I get these mental hurdles that are very hard for me to jump over sometimes. Anyway, that also made me feel so much better about having my babies so close together, because my sister, brother and I get along very well. So with that- Love Child- mama is ready for you!
When I wasn't sure whether or not I was pregnant or not, I talked to a girlfriend of mine about my fears. She already has one, and is not planning to have any more cause her pregnancy and post-pregnancy were very traumatic experiences. (The doctor didn't take the whole placenta out. Enough said.) Anyway, so I am telling her about my apprehension about having a baby so soon after just having had one, and she tells me that she and her brother are 13 months apart. Really? I was intrigued. She said that her and her brother were very close and always had been, and that her brother had a great sense of humour about being a 'Love Child'.
Love Child. That sounds so much better than 'Accident', which my husband and I will NEVER call our baby. Anyway, for some reason, that made me feel so much better. When my husband and I told his dad and step mom that we were pregnant again, my step-mother-in-law told me that she and her sister are 13 months apart. This was awesome. I knew these people existed, I just didn't think I knew any. When I was in grade school, there were these two kids- Isabelle and Eric. (I can't believe I remember their names!) They were brother and sister, both born in 1981, but they weren't twins and they were both in my class. I had a VERY hard time wrapping this around my young little head. They were 11 months apart. I have to admit that I am VERY glad my babies won't be 11 months apart. That's just too crazy.
Then, for the first time in my twenty-six years of life, I realized that my sister and older brother were fifteen months apart, and that my older brother and I were also fifteen months apart. The math between my sister and brother didn't really come as a surprise to me because my sister was born in 1978 and my brother was born in 1979. But I was born in 1981 and that makes it look like I am two years younger than my brother. I get these mental hurdles that are very hard for me to jump over sometimes. Anyway, that also made me feel so much better about having my babies so close together, because my sister, brother and I get along very well. So with that- Love Child- mama is ready for you!
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Crazy Korean ... Crap.
I love Old Wives' Tales because they are funny and there is really no truth to them. For exmaple- if you cross your eyes they will stay that way; if you eat watermelon seeds, watermelons will grow in your belly; or the ever popular- swinging a ring over your pregnant belly will tell you what the sex of your baby is- if the ring swings from side to side, it's a girl, and if it swings in a circle, it's a boy. An ultrasound reading may not be as much fun, but the test results are certainly more accurate.
Korean people, namely Korean women, take crazy tales (and just crazy in general) to a whole new level. This is especially evident when pregnancy/having a baby is involved. I live in Arizona, and my wonderful mother lives in Toronto, Ontario. Though I miss her like crazy, it's just the way it HAS TO BE, cause sometimes, she just drives me crazy. Anyway, with our first pregnancy, I told her the news on the phone. Then I was finally able to go visit her when I was three months pregnant. And that's when the craziness began. I wear jeans. All the time. They are comfortable, they look good with everything, and I always find great ones on sale, so they are also nice and cheap. My mom nearly ripped my pants right off my body when she first saw me. She asked me if I was trying to kill the baby. No, definitely trying to keep the little guy alive. Well, the baby can't breath through your jeans. You shouldn't wear jeans when you are pregnant! I was still not really following her train of thought. I didn't think the material of my clothes affected whether or not my unborn baby could breath or not. She said that jeans were too tight 'down there' and that's why the baby couldn't breath if I was wearing jeans- they were too thick and too tight. So basically what my mom was saying was that she thought the fetus in my body was being kept alive by air he was breathing through my crotch... super.
That was one of the bigger, crazier wives tales that I heard. Other stuff was smaller and a little less ridiculous. A little less. My mom said that I had to eat a lot of fruit cause it was good for the baby. Not crazy. But it had to be peeled and cut up beautifully in order for my baby to be beautiful as well. Crazy. There's also stuff about not letting your bare feet touch tile, otherwise you will have back problems for the rest of your life. I dunno. Like I said, most of it is crap.
I tutored this korean girl in Phoenix for a few months while I was pregnant. Near the end of our time together, her mom asked me who was going to make me The Soup after I had the baby, because I had told her before that my mother-in-law was going to be in town for the birth of the baby, and then my mom was going to come as soon as my m-i-l left a week later. The Soup is simply a broth that has seaweed in it. Seaweed has a lot of iron in it, and so it's good to eat this soup often after childbirth, especially since there is some bloodloss involved in the childbearing process. Korean people actually have this soup for their birthday, in remembrance of their mothers eating it all the time after they were born. And again, cause it's a good source of iron. Anyway, I told the lady that no one was going to make me The Soup. And she freaked out. 'Oh, you HAVE to have the soup. You will surely die if you don't have The Soup.' I calmly told her that I was pretty sure people in America, and other places around the world had successfully lived after having a baby and not eating The Soup. She didn't understand what I was talking about. She probably could have made me The Soup herself, seeing as how she was one of the only korean people I knew in Phoenix, but that thought didn't cross her mind either.
Anyway, my mom made herself sick thinking about The Soup Situation. As the day of my baby's arrival kept approaching, the more sleep she lost over the whole thing. She actually called a korean church in Phoenix and told the pastor that she would make a nice financial contribution to their church if they could but get someone to come to my house after my baby was born to make me The Soup. I was in the hospital for about two days after having our child. My mom called me constantly, probably just to make sure I was alive, and she kept asking me if I had gotten any calls from korean people. I hadn't. And she was pissed. Needless to say, that church lost out on a pretty penny or two.
Korean people, namely Korean women, take crazy tales (and just crazy in general) to a whole new level. This is especially evident when pregnancy/having a baby is involved. I live in Arizona, and my wonderful mother lives in Toronto, Ontario. Though I miss her like crazy, it's just the way it HAS TO BE, cause sometimes, she just drives me crazy. Anyway, with our first pregnancy, I told her the news on the phone. Then I was finally able to go visit her when I was three months pregnant. And that's when the craziness began. I wear jeans. All the time. They are comfortable, they look good with everything, and I always find great ones on sale, so they are also nice and cheap. My mom nearly ripped my pants right off my body when she first saw me. She asked me if I was trying to kill the baby. No, definitely trying to keep the little guy alive. Well, the baby can't breath through your jeans. You shouldn't wear jeans when you are pregnant! I was still not really following her train of thought. I didn't think the material of my clothes affected whether or not my unborn baby could breath or not. She said that jeans were too tight 'down there' and that's why the baby couldn't breath if I was wearing jeans- they were too thick and too tight. So basically what my mom was saying was that she thought the fetus in my body was being kept alive by air he was breathing through my crotch... super.
That was one of the bigger, crazier wives tales that I heard. Other stuff was smaller and a little less ridiculous. A little less. My mom said that I had to eat a lot of fruit cause it was good for the baby. Not crazy. But it had to be peeled and cut up beautifully in order for my baby to be beautiful as well. Crazy. There's also stuff about not letting your bare feet touch tile, otherwise you will have back problems for the rest of your life. I dunno. Like I said, most of it is crap.
I tutored this korean girl in Phoenix for a few months while I was pregnant. Near the end of our time together, her mom asked me who was going to make me The Soup after I had the baby, because I had told her before that my mother-in-law was going to be in town for the birth of the baby, and then my mom was going to come as soon as my m-i-l left a week later. The Soup is simply a broth that has seaweed in it. Seaweed has a lot of iron in it, and so it's good to eat this soup often after childbirth, especially since there is some bloodloss involved in the childbearing process. Korean people actually have this soup for their birthday, in remembrance of their mothers eating it all the time after they were born. And again, cause it's a good source of iron. Anyway, I told the lady that no one was going to make me The Soup. And she freaked out. 'Oh, you HAVE to have the soup. You will surely die if you don't have The Soup.' I calmly told her that I was pretty sure people in America, and other places around the world had successfully lived after having a baby and not eating The Soup. She didn't understand what I was talking about. She probably could have made me The Soup herself, seeing as how she was one of the only korean people I knew in Phoenix, but that thought didn't cross her mind either.
Anyway, my mom made herself sick thinking about The Soup Situation. As the day of my baby's arrival kept approaching, the more sleep she lost over the whole thing. She actually called a korean church in Phoenix and told the pastor that she would make a nice financial contribution to their church if they could but get someone to come to my house after my baby was born to make me The Soup. I was in the hospital for about two days after having our child. My mom called me constantly, probably just to make sure I was alive, and she kept asking me if I had gotten any calls from korean people. I hadn't. And she was pissed. Needless to say, that church lost out on a pretty penny or two.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Oops. I did it again.
For the most part, I am a very rational, level-headed woman. I spaz out every once in awhile, when the occasion calls for it, but I rarely cry, much to the pleasure of my husband. Lately, I have been feeling, uh, not so rational. Have kinda felt like crying a few times this week, the most memorable time being a few weeks ago while I watched the season finale of 'So You Think You Can Dance' They had this little guy who had some kind of genetic disorder, and he danced his little heart out and it was so amazing! I held back tears cause I was with a girlfriend- a well-known frequent cryer, and if she wasn't even shedding any tears, there was no reason why I should be. Or was there?...
So, my baby is 5 months old and she is quite the little chunk-a-lunk! The books say that once babies start eating solid foods, their interest in The Breasts decreases. The books also say that babies often do not like the taste of folrmula so it is a good idea to do a ratio of more breastmilk to formula and to change the ratio as time goes on. Lily had her first taste (ok, tastes) of formula when we were in Michigan two weeks ago for a wedding. I was busy! I was in the wedding and I could not pump enough breastmilk to satiate my little piglet. And having my baby attached to my boob at the altar was not an option (apparently people frown upon that kind of thing. Go figure.) Anyway, my little Lilers chowed that formula down like it was going out of style. So she drinks formula just fine, she is always ecstatic to see her great friends- The Breasts, and she eats cereal off the spoon as if she's been doing it her whole life. This girl LOVES TO EAT. Anyway, I figured that my ravenous appetite was due to my baby literally sucking everything outta me...
Now, I know I had mentioned earlier that I am a rational person, and what I am about to tell you may not sound like something a smart person would do- but just bear with me for a sec. When I was Finally ready to be intimate with my husband again after giving birth- a mere three months after the fact (did I mention I am 110lbs not-pregnant, and my husband is 180lbs not-pregnant, and my baby came out a week early at a whoppping 8lbs 3 oz. All these facts were factors in our need to wait.) Another set back was due to the Progestin-only birth control pill I started a few weeks earlier. Apparently those little suckers are more sensitive than my mom on menopause. The normal pill is a very relaxed and forgiving pill- if you forget to take it one day, you can double up the next day. Sure you're supposed to take them at the same time everyday, but the world doesn't come to a screeching halt if you are a bit late. The Progestin-only pill is not so lenient. If you should happen to miss your dosage time by five minutes it makes your body think it's not on the pill any more at all and therefore causing you to have a period. No one told me about the fickle nature of this pill, so I kept taking it, around 3:00pm every day, give or take 30 to five minutes, and I kept getting my period! It would start and go on for about a week, then it would stop for a week, then start up again, then stop, then start, AGAIN. Yes, I had my period three times in June. Boo. I finally went to the doctor after the third time, and they blamed it all on the Progestin-only pill. So I stopped taking it, and decided that condoms would be our birth control method of choice until I was done breast feeding.
I had been on the Pill (the nice one) since we got married, so I never had used condoms before. I bought some with my friend who was an avid condom user, and had them ready in my bed-side table, ready for action. When action night finally arrived, my husband slipped one on, we started doing the deed (with LOTS of lube) but stopped mid-way. I couldn't really feel a difference (like I said, there was a lot of lube involved) but my husband was very uncomfortable. He said he would just 'pull out' before anything happened. And then that became our new birth control method of choice. As my father would say in his broken English- 'that is not quite an idea'.
Shockingly enough- I'm pregnant again! My sister says my husband and I are like stupid high school students, and I guess we are. I seriously thought that the combination of my breast feeding, and my husband pulling out- there was no way we'd get pregnant. Oops. I did it again.
Fortunately, my husband is a major family-oriented man, so he is very excited about our surprise addition. It took me a second longer to get excited, but I surely am now.
What's the moral to this terribly long blog? There is a reason they do not put the 'Pull Out Method' in text books about sex and birth control. Unless it's in the section for 'Do not try this at home idiots.'
So, my baby is 5 months old and she is quite the little chunk-a-lunk! The books say that once babies start eating solid foods, their interest in The Breasts decreases. The books also say that babies often do not like the taste of folrmula so it is a good idea to do a ratio of more breastmilk to formula and to change the ratio as time goes on. Lily had her first taste (ok, tastes) of formula when we were in Michigan two weeks ago for a wedding. I was busy! I was in the wedding and I could not pump enough breastmilk to satiate my little piglet. And having my baby attached to my boob at the altar was not an option (apparently people frown upon that kind of thing. Go figure.) Anyway, my little Lilers chowed that formula down like it was going out of style. So she drinks formula just fine, she is always ecstatic to see her great friends- The Breasts, and she eats cereal off the spoon as if she's been doing it her whole life. This girl LOVES TO EAT. Anyway, I figured that my ravenous appetite was due to my baby literally sucking everything outta me...
Now, I know I had mentioned earlier that I am a rational person, and what I am about to tell you may not sound like something a smart person would do- but just bear with me for a sec. When I was Finally ready to be intimate with my husband again after giving birth- a mere three months after the fact (did I mention I am 110lbs not-pregnant, and my husband is 180lbs not-pregnant, and my baby came out a week early at a whoppping 8lbs 3 oz. All these facts were factors in our need to wait.) Another set back was due to the Progestin-only birth control pill I started a few weeks earlier. Apparently those little suckers are more sensitive than my mom on menopause. The normal pill is a very relaxed and forgiving pill- if you forget to take it one day, you can double up the next day. Sure you're supposed to take them at the same time everyday, but the world doesn't come to a screeching halt if you are a bit late. The Progestin-only pill is not so lenient. If you should happen to miss your dosage time by five minutes it makes your body think it's not on the pill any more at all and therefore causing you to have a period. No one told me about the fickle nature of this pill, so I kept taking it, around 3:00pm every day, give or take 30 to five minutes, and I kept getting my period! It would start and go on for about a week, then it would stop for a week, then start up again, then stop, then start, AGAIN. Yes, I had my period three times in June. Boo. I finally went to the doctor after the third time, and they blamed it all on the Progestin-only pill. So I stopped taking it, and decided that condoms would be our birth control method of choice until I was done breast feeding.
I had been on the Pill (the nice one) since we got married, so I never had used condoms before. I bought some with my friend who was an avid condom user, and had them ready in my bed-side table, ready for action. When action night finally arrived, my husband slipped one on, we started doing the deed (with LOTS of lube) but stopped mid-way. I couldn't really feel a difference (like I said, there was a lot of lube involved) but my husband was very uncomfortable. He said he would just 'pull out' before anything happened. And then that became our new birth control method of choice. As my father would say in his broken English- 'that is not quite an idea'.
Shockingly enough- I'm pregnant again! My sister says my husband and I are like stupid high school students, and I guess we are. I seriously thought that the combination of my breast feeding, and my husband pulling out- there was no way we'd get pregnant. Oops. I did it again.
Fortunately, my husband is a major family-oriented man, so he is very excited about our surprise addition. It took me a second longer to get excited, but I surely am now.
What's the moral to this terribly long blog? There is a reason they do not put the 'Pull Out Method' in text books about sex and birth control. Unless it's in the section for 'Do not try this at home idiots.'
Mixed Family
Here we are in our backyard in Gilbert, Az. We is my five month old baby Lily, my studmuffin husband CJW, and our dogs Meeklo (the little guy) and Mally (the giant gal). We are a pretty happy little family for the most part. The dogs have been starving for attention since the baby came into this world, but alas, if they could shower themselves and not get hair, dirt and drool all over the place, they would be more than welcome to hang out in the living room with the rest of us. Meeklo is a stray off the street. We think he is part chihuahua part pug. Who knows. My husband named him after a character in a very bad b-list movie that no one has ever heard of except for our friends because they all have to watch this movie to enter 'the inner circle'. Mally is a purebred English Mastiff. We paid a buttload of money for her. She is a sweet dog, but dang does she get dirty! She is gentle around the babe, but quite frankly, the thought of her drooling all over my child makes me gag the way Lily's diapers still make her daddy gag. Out of all of our 'babies', Mally is the only 'full breed'. Her name is kindakorean. 'Mal' means horse in Korean, which is why we named her what we did. Presently (in this picture) she is just barely half the size she will be when she's full-grown. She is literally eating us straight into the poor house.
My hubby's name is Chris and he is 100% 'White'. He's got some Irish, Scottish, maybesomethinelse blood in him. Though I may not know his exact genealogical makeup, I do know that he is the best husband a girl could ask for, and he has made my life so much more than I ever thought I wanted. He is amazing, and there is never a dull moment with the lad. We ironically met in Korea a number of years ago. He was a Marine doing Embassy duty, and I was in Korea trying to 'find my roots' (who woulda thunk my roots were a native Arizonite??!? My parents were very displeased at first but have since gotten over it. Long story. Maybe I will share it some day.) He is now proudly serving as a police officer here in the desert. He loves his job which is a blessing for everyone (except them bad guys).
As for me, I am 100% 'Yellow' (and very politically incorrect.) I have black hair and football shaped eyes. I am Korean. I was born there, but then moved over to the Great White Freezing North (or whatever Americans tend to call Canada) which is where I grew up. Most of my friends in Canada are still single (as in not married) and working. Some friends are in their mid-twenties, some are in their early thirties. But Arizona is like some alternate universe where people get married straight outta college, if not high school, and have kids in their early 20s. I got married here in Arizona at 24 and birthed my beautiful giant baby at 26. Boy did I feel old when I first moved here. But I'm not old! I'm still but a child occassionally (ok, more often than not). So now I have joined the epidemic in America of 'babies having babies'.
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