The Best Time of the Year

Hope you had a merry Christmas and a happy new year! The last time I updated this blog was at the end of November. In December, we participated in all the  festivities leading up to a holly jolly Christmas. We took Christmas photos by the giant tree at The Grove, sent out Christmas cards (halfway into December... rookie mistake!) , baked and indulged in way too many sugary treats, braved the rain to get our holiday shopping done, and even went to the theater on Christmas night to watch Star Wars to close out the night. It was very lovely.

I am feeling optimistic about the new year. In 2015, Preston lit up our world. Raising him up has been the most challenging experience and the most joyful experience. That definitely won't change in the new year . At the end of a long day, when I hear his steady, deep breaths, see his body sprawled across our bed, and know I did what I could to keep him smiling (and alive) that day, this to me feels like enough. 

I also do want to devote more time to reading the Word, be more intentional with relationships, and practice more writing, all the while keeping things simple and in perspective. The perspective is this: I will never have it all together, but it's going to be alright. Rain or shine, the goodness of life is always there. 

Rewinding to Thanksgiving Day

Now that we're midway into December, let me put up a post about Thanksgiving!

(It doesn't make sense to me either, but it was the kickoff to our holiday season, and it just doesn't feel right to skip over it...)

Now I don't mean to start this post in a dreary way, but I don't have a lot of fond memories of the holiday season from my younger years. It was the busiest time out of the whole year for my working parents, and after putting in extra hours at our store, naturally they weren't in the most festive spirit upon arriving home. Cooking up a roast and gathering 'round the table just wasn't high up on our priority list. Some years we did the family gathering, some we didn't. Now that I think about it, our lives were dictated a lot by our store. I always knew other families celebrated in a different way, but I was never bitter or sad about it. I accepted that this was just the way things had to be .

Since coming to California, I've enjoyed the holidays in such a different way, and the only sadness I feel is the part of me that wishes my own family could somehow be a part of it. Maybe one day...

 This Thanksgiving was fun, food, and commotion with the Choi family (minus the ones out of town.) For dinner, we had traditional Thanksgiving dishes like mashed potatoes and green bean casserole but also  Korean deliciousness like japchae noodles and kimbap. It was the heartiest of hearty feasts. So much food, so much leftovers. Afterwards, the parents were huddled around the dining table scouring through Black Friday deals from the papers. The kids were decorating cookies, playing hide and week, and running around the house acting like hooligans. And me? I was minding Preston, who I must add was the hit of Thanksgiving. He entertained everybody by his mere presence. While I wasI was sitting back and loving every minute of the festive atmosphere.

Coffeehouse Date

Preston has made an almost full recovery. Green goopy diapers are still going on and diaper changes have turned into something of a traumatizing experience. That diaper rash of his is fighting to stay on his bum with a vengeance. Otherwise he is on the upswing. We are relieved and trying to slip back into our old routine.

I wrote the post below before he was sick. The Hubs and I went on a date. I was just sitting and reflecting on motherhood and the state of my life. I thought I might want to read back on it, so here it is. 

This cup of coffee happened. As our grandma took over Preston watching duties, We (Hubs and I) went to a nearby cafe, sat down with a cup of coffee and ate delicious Italian pastry, lingering on every bite (because who knows the next time we can do this again?!)  He studied a little, then took a nap on my lap as I was typing away my inner monologue that has produced this entry. Let me tell you, it felt glorious.  We are currently in the throes of Preston's worst night wakings where he has been waking every 2-3 hours. One night of poor sleep can be recovered by an extra dose of caffeine. Multiple nights of interrupted sleep? That wreaks havoc on your entire day, physically and emotionally, and I know it sounds crazy, but this day has been a long time in the dreaming.

Which brings me to this thought:  Being with a baby every minute of every day is beautiful but also complicated. You want to be present  in every moment you spend with your child , but you also desperately feel the need to weave in "me time" and step away from diaper changes and mealtime disaster cleanups to refuel. By "refuel" I mean have those quiet, reflective periods where you can actually hear your own thoughts.

And these periods are essential to me. These are the times I remind myself that dedicating all my energy to my child, my husband, and my home is not only doing good but doing work that's essential. My role as mother and wife does have an impact. I enable my husband to do his work well.  I'm responsible for someone's whole childhood. I know it is a gift to be present in their lives every day, and when I reach an old, ripened age, I know that  it will be the memories of those tender moments with my family that will be a barometer of a life well lived.

It's these thoughts that help dissipate my emotional heap of wariness, worry, and exhaustion and empowers me to carry forth in the midst of days that are mayhem.

Our Poor Sick Baby

Life could use a little extra cheer right anow. Our last few days has totally sucked. We've had a stomach flu epidemic in our household (that I've been doing my best to not catch on to).

It all started one day when Danny was working in the pediatrics department. He came home with fever, chills, other miserable symptoms (kids are so potent)!  He skipped dinner and went straight to bed that night and the next morning he was a new man. He's had to fight some of the lingering remnants of the virus and has still been checking into the toilet every other hour, but the worst of it was over in a day.

For Preston, things were a little... or a lot more intense. He caught on to the virus the same day as his daddy but has been in the throes of non-stop green goopy diapers and projectile vomiting since the beginning of the week. Our poor little man got so worn out and weak that he completely lost his appetite and stopped nursing. This is when we had to take him to the hospital, because we were getting nervous that he might be too dehydrated. Of course, we knew what was going on, but the doctors (to be sure) had to run a few blood tests and put an IV in him. I had to sit and watch, sometimes be the one to hold him down, as he was poked and prodded all night long. It was a mama's worst nightmare.



We're back at home now and on the mend. We're seeing glimpses of his spirited self, but there are times during the day when Preston gets really quiet and somber and just lays his head against my chest. If you know our son, you know this is exactly the opposite of his default self, so it's heartbreaking to see.

I've been on an emotional rollercoaster. Thankfully, my husband and in-laws have been around helping me to stay calm and grounded. I am so grateful not only for distractions but for extra hands. When you and your child are covered in a divine smell like vomit, an extra pair of hands is a God send. So thankful, and also so ready to reclaim my mischievous son back. Any day now. Please?

Picking Our Perfect Pumpkin

From the day we began our lives together as a family, I knew exactly what I wanted: the vivid memories of my own childhood- going strawberry picking in farm fields, sledding down huge snow mountains, spending countless hours making sand castles at the beach, etc. I know Preston won't remember any of our family adventures at this age, but I find joy in building these traditions as a family. So, naturally, visiting a pumpkin patch was high on our to-do list this season.

The pumpkin patch we took him to was one called Tina's Pumpkin Patch in Sherman Oaks. One day, we'll get the purist experience of going out to a real farm pumpkin patch. For our first time, we really didn't mind that this was just a dirt lot off a busy intersection 

There were so many different pumpkins of all shapes and sizes, we had a hard time choosing THE one. Finally we went for the one that most resembled our sons head. Is this mean? Hahah. I think someone mentioned one time he looks like a little pumpkin, and I totally see it.

 

Instilled in my memory from this trip is Preston's look of bewilderment as he was examining this giant orange orb. In a short amount of time, he was decidedly dissatisfied with sitting next to a pumpkin and, in usual fashion, had to let his feelings be known with loud grunts. After much coaxing, dissatisfaction gradually ripened into tolerance and then fascination.

 

The day was so hot. We felt like eggs sizzling in a frying pan. Understandably, Preston looked like Mr. Grumps in 90% of the photos we took of him.

What I love about Preston at this age is how engaged he is with the world. His endless fascination with everything around him is amusing to both of us, but also a good reminder to not just look but try to really see and listen to the world in that untarnished way. 

Right now I am so smitten with the three of us. One day, probably in the near future, I know that I will want Preston to have other siblings to play with, but  at this instant, I'm smitten with our tiny little family. Pretty sure Preston relishes the attention too, hahah.