200 square feet and it stinks

so im writing this from the hotel we have been camping at for the past week and a half waiting on our elusive shipment of household goods to arrive so we can begin the joyous task of unpacking our lives one brown box at a time...discovering along the way jut how many windows we have that are new sizes and walls that dont quite fit our lifes possessions. adding to the joy of today is that our sweet peach has been throwing up for the past 12 hours continuosly. i am now in a room piled high with hotel linens and the faint smell of bile in the air.

i plan on utilizing the grocery service that our hotel offers today since patrick has the car in d.c. doing work at the base and am hoping the eager staff is eager to fetch me some pedialite and saltines to begin testing the tepid waters of gks tummy.

and im ready for our stuff to arrive. and im ready to be living in a real house with familiar linens and familiar smells. im ready for my mom to get here and have all the answers and encouragement to get me through a day like this. but im thankful. im thankful for lori, the kind woman from housekeeping who just delivered fresh towels and removed the smelly pile from the corner (somehow without even a look of disgust...remarkable, i assure you...it stanks). im thankful for the note that patrick left this morning wishing me the best day possible in light of a sick little one. im convinced there is no place he would rather be than in this room with us, smells and all. i feel lucky to be here, in d.c., reunited with close friends and expecting a son in just over 6 weeks. and today will pass. gk will feel better, the puke smell will wash out of one of my few remaining cute shirts that still fit, we will have our stuff delivered eventually and our house will be a home...stocked with pedialite and crackers at the ready for another round in motherhood bliss.

su-per

for any of you who may not know of my absolute loooove of flying, read this entry from when i experienced a pudding like faith as i flew the friendly skies. for the rest of you who are well aware of my ongoing unnatural, irrational, and completely silly (but very real) fear of flying, you can just picture my joy at last nights news. sweet charlie gibson (i really do love that guy) informed me that the pilots of usairways have taken out a full one page ad in the new york times blowing the whistle on what they claim to be instructions from corporate that could endanger passengers. namely, the issue of flying with the least amount of fuel as possible in order to save money. FABULOUS. i will be extra calm tomorrow as i board my nonstop flight across country on usairways to d.c....i will also be wishing for a cocktail and anti anxiety meds every time i hear the slightest noise. isnt paying for my second checked bag supposed to offset the cost of the fuel? or was it the paying for my glass of water and tiny pack of stale pretzels? or maybe it was the already unbelievably high price i paid for a one way ticket?? i seem to have lost track of all the ways theyve so creatively come up with to screw me out of a few more dollars, but surely one of them can cover the cost of enough fuel to keep the pilots happy and passengers safe. ugh.

just a thought

so theres this story, a headline really, that if youve seen any news in the last month you have no doubt heard about. it focuses on a young group of teens from a massachusetts town who supposedly made a pact to intentionally get pregnant and raise their babies together. (they seriously should have called me first, i would have explained just how different my belly looks post baby as well as the finer perks of throwing up while 7 months preggo). but they didnt call me and i didnt have the chance to take these girls under my 'you dont want to be knocked up' wing and explain to them with truth in love why there could possibly be a few easier ways to keep in touch with high school friends (if you even remember them post graduation) and bond with the girls. can you say facebook and a spa day? alas, these young mothers now have young babies and for all the speculation and criticism (can you believe the news coverage has everything from hollywood making it look too easy/glamorous to jamie lynn spears having a baby at 17 sharing the blame) i see a potential silver lining in the now infamous story.

i went to a high school with well over 2,000 students. of those 2200 kids, there were 2 girls who had babies, one doing a brave job of raising her little boy while trying to complete her diploma and the other who generously offered up her little one to a young couple unable to have children of their own. the second girl, after making an extremely difficult and brave decision to give her own baby a different life than she could offer, was rewarded for her courage in the way that only high school girls are capable of by calling her a slut and a whore behind her back. rather than honored, she was shamed. rather than being supported, she was ostracized and rather than being respected she was humiliated by her peers. what i know now is that there were lots of pregnancies in that high school, there were just not many births. the stigma of having a child as a teen was far greater than the stigma of having an abortion.

i am a supporter of all life. of the life of the unborn and the life of a woman who is forced to make an unimaginably difficult and painful decision to not have a child. i recognize that for every life taken, there is a life forever changed. there are scars and wounds that never heal within these women who when faced with a choice were in a place where terminating a pregnancy seemed like the best option.

and while im concerned that teen pregnancy is still prevalent (although it is at its lowest rate in a decade) and that there was clearly a lapse in maturity and judgment by these young women, i am simultaneously encouraged that the stigma for having a child amid less than ideal circumstances seems to be making progress. i am not saying we, as a society, should celebrate a group of young teens choosing to get pregnant. what i am saying is that there is at least room for the possibility of a gradual shift in our view of these young girls and subsequent pregnancies. perhaps the tide is changing and we are beginning to alter how we judge the choices of young women facing difficult decisions. and i believe, if only in the smallest and most hopeful spaces of my spirit, theres a chance we are placing a greater value on life than we have in the past. and for that i am encouraged.

and shes honest

while trying to position a keyboard on my lap to play, georgia, after several attempts at finding the perfect spot said, 'um, mommy, im taking this to papa's lap because your tummys kind of in the way.'

thanks. i hadnt noticed.

someone should have told me...

one day i will create a list of ALL the things i wish id been told about life in general...but knowing that will be a lengthy ordeal and that today my time is extremely limited (i have a preggo massage appt followed by a highlight courtesy of my babies daddy...it could potentially be the best day of the summer for me) i will keep this focused on one particular issue.


potty training. its done. after putting it off for 5 long months (ive been itching to do this since her 2nd birthday but kept making up somewhat legit excuses to procrastinate this joyous and monumental occasion), gk was apparently ready and after a week of being a 'big girl' has only had 2 accidents. i am thoroughly impressed by her quick transition and consider it a sign that she was in fact really ready to make the switch. and that she is truly the genius her parents have always believed her to be.


what i wish someone would have told me is how, for the love of all things sanitary, do you keep a 2 year old from touching EVERYTHING in a public restroom??? i am pretty even tempered with gk most of the time, trying hard to keep my tone relatively pleasant while firm. however, i have been sent way over the edge every time we enter one of those germ infested hells known as public toilets as i practically beg, threaten and yell at her to please STOP touching...the seat, the tp dispenser, the nasty metal trash cans...the list goes on and on. there has to be a trick or a support group or a manual, something to help with this part of the process.


the most disgusting of incidents occurred as gk was two steps ahead of me entering the nastiest of restrooms and tripped on a small ledge and fell flat on her face...her face. her clean sweet face. of course her little palms were spread out on the sticky floor as well. i could have thrown up right then and there. and then, to top it off, there was no soap dispenser in this place. there should be a law or something about that. anyway...tips are welcome, hand sanitizer donations are appreciated and thanks for feeling my pain.

same question...every 4 years...

i dont mean to ever bring politics onto my blog and most of you would probably be surprised at how i vote, why i vote and the things that motivate my decisions. but as the election draws nearer, the one thing that remains the same in my mind every 4 years is the question of 'is this really the best we, as a country, have to offer up to lead the free world?' dont misunderstand me, the two in the game at this point are nothing to sneeze at. its just that i am left inspired and simultaneously uncertain. i am hopeful but not sure exactly what for. i am left wondering how a country that has managed to produce the monumental figures in our history as well as current leaders with 10,000 lb brains, always ends up with two people, who while intelligent and experienced in their own right are the only options. i will vote, it is my right and my obligation, but it will not be because i think there are no better candidates. it will be because i am forced to choose between the choices our system has put in place. its sad that such an exciting privilege and opportunity often times leaves me feeling underwhelmed.

cell phones behaving badly

i love technology. i really do. particularly in the incredibly small doses that i currently have it in my life. i enjoy reading some blogs, shopping and researching online, keeping my ipod up to date and being available by phone 24 hours a day.

the cell phone has to be the greatest invention next to velcro and maybe stretch denim and while my phone (like every other piece of technology in my life) will always remain smarter than i am, with countless features i will never bother to learn, much less use, it is a welcome fixture in my life. and while i may never understand how it really works, i do know that towers are involved, roaming is no longer an issue and they function best if they have not been exposed to water.

water would be what caused the latest malfunction of my cell phone...actually my moms cell phone that was in my care for the weeks leading up to my stateside cell phone purchase...which is now complete if you need my number.

in order to complete the loan paperwork for our home purchase (which is also complete if you need my address) i needed to contact the county courthouse in omaha, nebraska to have a few documents faxed relating to the sale of our last home. sounds simple enough. i realized the morning i needed to make these calls that the phone had been sitting in a wee bit of water all night long, but somehow was still able to dial the necessary numbers and hold the connection long enough for me to make my requests to denise in omaha. simple enough. i hung up, went outside and began a morning of sidewalk chalk and coffee.

an hour later i came inside and heard voices. not the kind youre thinking...i followed the sound to the cell phone which was closed but talking. there was a clearly annoyed voice saying something about 'who IS this??' i picked up the phone to see who had last been called and it was kind denise at the county courthouse. kind denise did not sound particularly kind. i was about to check the rest of the call history when it started ringing again in my hand...not for me to answer, but for someone else being called by the phone in my hand. i tried to hang up, to stop the call, to even turn the phone off, but to no avail. it was denise again sounding thoroughly angry and wanting to again know who was calling. finally, she hung up and i was able to check the call history. oh. my. gawww. there were 97 calls to the courthouse. 97!! as in three shy of 100, which quickly became 2 shy as it again started ringing in my hand. CRAP. i took the battery off the back to avoid call number 98 and began wondering what i should do.

i waited a few minutes before putting the battery back on and turning the possessed phone on. as soon as it was powered up, calls 99 and 100 were placed. clearly i had pushed the courthouse office to a point where someone was probably going to get hurt. i wondered if there was some poor employee who had just gone through a break up and some ex was wrongly being blamed for all the calls or even worse.

so, crazy cell phone was disabled again and we called the provider who graciously removed all the calls from our bill and talked us through ways to trouble shoot the issue. the phone dried out and hasnt caused any problems since.

the next day, denise actually called me and mentioned there had been a problem faxing one of the documents to me the day before. she apologized perfusely for not calling me sooner, but explained they had been having major phone issues the day before. i told her it was perfectly okay and that i completely understood. i was only tempted for a brief moment to disclose my part of the phone issues but quickly decided against it. im still wondering if full disclosure falls into the new truth leaf ive been turning over. im thinking it doesnt. at least not this time.

karma

im a good truth teller. most of the time. i value honesty, upfrontness, laying it all there so to speak...unless of course it puts me in the position of hurting someones feelings with said honesty. im terrible at that. really really terrible. another exception to my truth saying is when a stranger is involved and my life would be much easier/better/less difficult if i was able to have it my way. i have two examples recently of why the rules of 'always tell the truth' or 'never tell a lie' are generally speaking good rules to live by and more importantly why i need to work these lessons out...

many of you know of my sweet housekeeper, ms. hong. such a great woman with mad laundry skillz (only rivaled by her ability to make one plastic bag wake an entire home of sleeping individuals just by handling it oh so gently). however, before the gloriously clean days of ms. hong, there was a woman named maria. maria was kind, cooked and loved caring for georgia. it was a fabulous arrangement except she continually dried my jeans on high heat (does she have a death wish?? this has been a cardinal sin for the past several years as my denim has been stretched to the max and most jeans are only truly comfortable after air drying and wearing for a day) and the bigger issue would be that my generally happy and social peach cried every time she arrived. as in screamed and begged through tears to not be left with maria. this would be a red flag to anyone with a pulse and i, not being a total moron made the decision to find a replacement for maria. i know she never hurt georgia, trust me, this child would have told me, shown me and reminded me of it for weeks, but it only took her a couple of weeks to associate marias arrival with a day away from me. i also noticed that maria tended to scurry like a mouse from room to room and while i found it strange, gk found it scary, constantly asking 'what she doin?' while climbing up to the safety of my lap. so there was an obvious personality conflict between my nanny and my child...clearly a good enough reason for her dismissal. but how do you tell a woman who only speaks moderately good english and happens to love your child (or at least pretends really well) that your kid hates her?? i opted for the 'you dont' option. rather, i explained to her that i would be leaving the country in a few weeks and that my mother would be flying over to help me in the meantime as i prepared for my move.

i rarely gave maria another thought. she understood completely and a couple of weeks later when i ran into her on the elevator caring for someone elses child, i happen to be with a friend who looks much older than i....so, i introduced maria to my mother. i know. shady. shameful and gutless. but, nobodys feelings were hurt right? except maybe the friend that i just passed off as my mother.

fast forward eight months to last saturday. that would be the day i was waiting in seoul to begin my 30 hour voyage back to the mother ship. the airport is a solid two hours from the base and is a huge place, constantly busy. after checking in we found the closest row of seats to hang out as a family before saying our good byes. no sooner had i sat down than i noticed the woman sitting right next to me. let me just say there are no more than 5 koreans i would recognize in a crowd of thousands...but in an instant i knew i was sitting next to maria. the kind woman who had to be fired because i was leaving the country...eight months ago. this is karma. this is God using the universe to teach me a lesson about truth. she was so happy and surprised (understandably so) to see all of us that amid hugs, questions and well wishes she never bothered to ask the most obvious and uncomfortable question. and i, valuing upfrontness, never bothered to volunteer the answer.

the other moment in recent weeks occurred while i attempted to de-register the car in korea. it is a process requiring 12 different documents, a navigation system to find it (its in the basement of a stadium...unmarked) and apparently a bucket of patience that i sometimes forget to take with me. i decided i would handle this part of the move so that busy pat would not have to and since he happens to be handling the movers, i felt like this was more than fair.

i set out with my directions and documents in hand to find this elusive place i had been told about. what should be a 30 minute drive was over an hour as i tested out several roads trying to run into the stadium. when i did find it, i was reminded that in honor of sweet buddhas special birthday, the office was closed. fabulous.

the next day my trip was only 40 minutes thanks to the practice run the day before. i placed gk on the couch with a snack and managed to wait in line with a smile until i was called. i happily found my way to the counter, produced all 12 documents and waited for the 'okay'. she asked if i had pats power of attorney since the car was registered in his name. um no. i showed her where my name appeared on the title, on the insurance, on the stateside registration, on my military id...pretty much everywhere but the korean registration. frustrated, desperate and trying to figure out how and when georgia got black mystery dirt on her face while eating snacks on the couch i began to plead with her that she allow me, the wife to handle this matter. she wasnt budging. now we are 3 days from leaving the pen and im remembering the mountain of work that i still need to get done and realizing that a third trip to this place just isnt in the cards. desperate, i blurt out that my husband, the one who registered the car, has already left the country, is stateside and all of our goods are packed, to include the power of attorney. i know. im going to hell or at the minimum truth purgatory. she looked at me, looked at my dirty child and said 'have him unpack it and fax it here'. that was it.

defeated, i left. pat decided to take care of it the next day and only asked that i accompany him so he wouldnt get lost. fine. we arrived, miraculously with husband who had already left the country and took care of it amid deserved looks of judgment at my dishonest ways by the lady who had stood her ground and told me no...in spite of my imagined desperate circumstances.

in a book i read a few months ago, eat, pray, love, the author writes simply what she has learned...always tell the truth. i think she may be onto something. so watch out...a new leaf is being turned over within me with just a little help from the universe.

s.k.i. #7

i have figured im averaging about one strange korean incident a month these days and ive decided thats pretty infrequent considering how bizarre this little country can be. recently, i decided to head to seoul for the day to have my hair cut and highlighted. i should confess that as nervous as i am about all that can be lost in translation, the one that scares me the most is the horror that could result from a bad salon experience. it could come out 10 different shades of scary and then where would i be? thousands of miles away from an aveda salon with a man named pedro dressed in black and willing to work his gay magic on my disastrous do.

however, desperate regrowth calls for desperate measures and with that mantra playing in my 2 inch roots, i went forward to a place americanly named 'clippers'. take everything you think of an american salon and toss it. make it louder, busier, more crowded with a slight smell of kimchee mixed with hair color and youre beginning to get the feel of a korean salon. there were so many people working in there, i felt like a giant trying to avoid an ant farm or a moped trying to navigate my way through targets parking lot the day after thanksgiving. the trick is to find the one korean who speaks english which requires a keen sense of listening because everyone is shouting in korean and occasionally an individual will transition instantly from shouting in korean to asking you what you need. if youre not ready for the transition, you end up looking like the idiot who not only lacks an understanding of the korean language, but cant seem to understand english either. ah yes.

i arrived at the scene, located the one who looked most capable of assisting me and was asked a series of questions that i cannot remember and did not understand. what i did figure out after some hand holding, nail pointing and foot gesturing is that i was being offered a manicure and pedicure as well. this was looking up. i was about to make the most of my time without my peach attachment and indulge in a relaxing manicure and pedicure as well. how nice. so there was no cucumber water or tea being offered, so i felt like a stuffed animal being sent through a high speed build a bear, but i was going for the works and i was only moderately afraid.

it became perfectly clear in an instant why there were an insane amount of workers there...i had a korean or two on every limb. not exaggerating, there were at least 10 petite women all working on me at the same time. two at my hair dissecting, discussing, foiling, painting, more discussing. two on each foot rubbing, polishing, picking and the same on my hands. it was about as relaxing as trying to make a connection in the airport with 27 minutes between flights and a change from terminal A to terminal F. where was my tea? how i miss pedro.

the good news is the end result was the same at a fraction of the cost. sure, i could have used a cocktail on my way out to take the edge off, but the hair is the right color, the nails are the right shape and my piggies are fresh and ready for spring.

one last observation, all 236 workers had american first names on their name tags before their korean last name. and while i really appreciated it when it came time to track all 10 of them down for tip time, i realized how stupid they must think we are that we cant even remember or pronounce their given name. i felt dumb and ethnocentric for a moment before i realized that it was the name recognition of maria, lynn, lisa, kelly, amber, suzy, sara, amy, heidi, brooke & carol that ensured i remembered to tip them. there is no way i would have remembered all the korean names. so, maybe im not that dumb and theyre willing to change their names for the day to get tipped every time.

my own fault

right now my stomach is doing the wave and it is not baby induced. this afternoon i thought a perfect meal would be a handful of feta stuffed olives, two large dill pickle spears and enough peanut butter cups to create the illusion of a peanut butter cup wrapper snow storm in my immediate area. why i did this to myself i do not know. they each sounded worthy of consumption on their own, however, the combination is doing me in. yep. all my fault. no sympathy necessary. ive been wondering what beverage i could chase this all down with but strangely nothing sounds even slightly appetizing. margaritas are always great, but not really an option. ugh.

s.k.i. #6?...grouchy baby...

i will keep this brief as my body is just as tickled about being preggo this time around as last. while there are no recent tears to the esophagus from constant upchucking like last time resulting in the throwing up of blood, i continue to feel like im experiencing the worst hangover of my life most hours of the day.

i am actually feeling a bit better as of late and am beginning to believe there are better days ahead. however, before those better days arrive, i need to get over a slight case of pneumonia. now would be a good time to mention i was not an easy teen, i did stupid things and put my amazing parents through a lot. i admit this only to point to the possible reason as to why at this exact moment in time i know im being punished for bad behavior in my past. i know, i know, God doesnt roll like that, but seriously there is truth to karma and im getting mine.

after two weeks of wandering around like i had the black lung and alternating between throwing up frosted flakes and buckets of flem (arent you happy youre reading this now?) i swallowed my pride, got dressed and took myself to the emergency room. this is one of my most favorite places to go as its always a mystery what illness you have and of course what illness you will catch in the waiting room. after 74 minutes of my life that i will never get back, dr. tang (a nice korean man who has taken the time to barely learn english) emerges straight from the depths of the break room...i smelled coffee and donuts on this guy. he proceeds to tell me i have a 'bad cough' and 'maybe pneumonia...but we not know because im pregnant so no x-rayey'. great. i ask what i can possibly take that will help the hacking and maybe even help me sleep. he mentions something to me about being a 'superhero' (really, you know this word, but cant pronounce x-ray correctly?) and tells me tylenol and vitamins should help. REALLY?? i hadnt thought of that. hmm, that would be great if i had a headache and was able to even look at my vitamins without inducing a significant gag reflex. i plead with him for something else and he tells me if in a week i just cant take it anymore (at which time ill be leaning longingly over my balcony) i can come back and they can give me tylenol with codine. i ask why i cant have it today and this was his reply...'i could give you codine, but no takey because it make for grouchy baby'. GROUCHY BABY?? as in the 3 inches of baby i have in utero? will it take its little forming limbs and being beating the crap out of me? or are we talking a grouchy baby for life after birth? what exactly do you mean by this, dr. tang? and did you go to medical school online? and why do you hate me? and could you spare a cup of coffee and a few donuts if i cant have the codine?

im realizing that the shopping and my housekeeper will be the only things i miss about this place. and of course my friends, but theyre all leaving too, so whatever. oh, and before i had to taste it twice, the thai food. thats all. i promise my next post will be more chipper.

im alive

so im still here, still breathing (although the smell of korea is beginning to take its toll) and still full of random thoughts and korean incidents and i have a really great excuse to explain away my absence. however, you will have to wait just a bit longer...i promise not another month, but maybe just one more day and then i will begin the laborious task of unraveling the last month on this little blog of mine. thanks for understanding and still bothering to check in...i never intended to take this long of a break. at least im not as bad as this guy who is on a much longer hiatus and is withholding far more insightful thoughts.

much two fast

thats how i feel time is travelling in relation to our peach who is two today. that makes it 2 years, 24 months, 104 weeks, 728 days and 17, 472 hours since i fell madly, wholly and deeply in love. it was magical and unexpected, overwhelming and yet comforting, natural and beautiful and in an instant different. different than anything i had ever known or hoped to know.

the world became brighter, louder, funnier, clearer and surprisingly easier. in a moment i found my purpose in the privilege and awesome calling of motherhood and with it came a peace and contentment that were all consuming. i didnt say easy, i said all consuming. but, regardless of the moment, the day or the hour when i have felt weakest, i have never questioned this profound purpose for my life. i dont deserve this gift of motherhood, it is lavish in its magnitude. it is great in its extent and it is with that generous gift from God that i, with her father continue to try and nurture and grow her full time to be the child that one day may find her own purpose in His divine plan.

i gave up bikinis and gained belly laughs. i traded in some sleep for late night chats, prayers and gazes just between us. i once thought the three greatest inventions were stretch denim, flavored creamers and the push up bra...i now know them to be color wonder markers, sound machines and mylecon drops. i said farewell to the idea of a career and took immeasurable joy in being there for all of georgias firsts, seconds, thirds and hundredths. i traded sushi dinners for a 4 course cheese dinner with a very entertaining date. and what i find really amazing is that it doesnt seem to matter what is asked of me, what is demanded of me, or what is required to best nurture, teach and train this little one, i am somehow willing and able to give more than i thought i had.

there is irony at every turn in this adventure, the greatest being that as i desperately try and instill in her attributes of grace, compassion, love, kindness, generosity, hope, courage and faith, i am challenged to live these out as well. through God, i am trying to mold her in His image and yet through her, God is gradually molding me. and i am grateful. and inspired. and encouraged. that, He in His goodness, in His lavish love for us, entrusted this child, His creation to be ours.

and two years somehow flew by and i feel like im hanging onto the coat tails of time, begging it to please slow down, willing it to stand still. to please just give us more time. more time for the laughter, for the love, for the joy of it all. and while we keep chasing time for another day, another week, another month and another year, i know we will be laughing, loving and enjoying every moment of it.

happy 2nd birthday, georgia. you have made the gift of time the greatest gift of all. we love you so.

s.k.i. #5

for the past several months i have noticed a number of interesting things here that have raised questions in my mind that i dont have any clear answers to. recently i learned that the blue line on the highway indicated a bus lane (for use only on the weekends) rather than just a splash of something interesting on the otherwise dull pavement with the standard white lines. i have figured out that the constant shoving is due not to a mentality of rudeness, but rather a cultural norm stemming from what i assume to be no korean phrase for 'excuse me'.

there are things i will never figure out...like the use of cartoon characters on all advertisements, not just childrens, perhaps appealing to the child in all of us. the flow of driving is another elusive thing. while it is perfectly okay to run a red light, you had better not turn right on red. interestingly enough, it is kind of fun to pause and go at a red light even though it is illegal knowing that if you decided to stop at the light you would most certainly be mercilessly honked at and berated in words you cannot understand until you ran the red light.

i have managed to crack the code on at least one koreanism this week...

there are 10 digit phone numbers on almost all cars, not used for commercial use, but personal cars. not kimchee delivery, not carpet and tile sales, but regular old cars. they all have them and there are several methods of posting the number, applied stickers to the windshield is fairly popular as is the embroidered pillow with the number on it on display in the front or back windshield. i have been thoroughly confused as to why anyone would have their number so blatantly advertised on their vehicle. until this week. this week, while friends were out shopping, they returned to their car to find it completely blocked in. not a tight squeeze, not a 'please help direct me out of this', not a suck it in or climb in through the other door, but a no kidding, we are not leaving until little white daewoo moves out of the way. aha. call that number!! so, they called the number and daewoo driver emerged from a nearby building to move his car out of the way.

isnt that crazy? that you have a number put on your windshield or have a pillow embroidered with the sole purpose of parking in a way that makes it impossible for the other people to leave?? i started thinking of all the places they could be called out of just to move their car....weddings, funerals, classes, work....the list goes on and on. this is such a bizarre place. and yet somewhat endearing that they, knowing that blocking you in is a certain in their future, at least make themselves available to let you out.

a little spoiled and a little lazy

very rarely am i honest enough with myself that i would admit either of these things, but this morning, over coffee, i had a frank and honest discussion with none other than myself. and before you try and have me taking the same little magic pills that you are, just know it was a healthy chat. self was feeling very blunt and self was willing to accept a few truths (they were conveyed mostly in love).

i was thinking of what i love most about korea and while i would love to say that it has been the invaluable cultural experience that only comes from living in a foreign country, that it has been an enlightening experience that i just cannot imagine having lived my life without, that im considering pursuing a life led in service to the less fortunate as a result and that i plan on donating all that i own to worthy causes like greenpeace and the celebrity chihuahua rescue foundation, that wouldnt exactly be true. now, this has been a fantastic opportunity, one that i am thankful for, one that has taught me more than simply holding my breath for long periods of time to avoid smells and to exercise great self control when seeing stray animals (they really do not need me to bring them home), it has also grown my appreciation for all things asian.

i love the korean people and their love of my offspring. i love the food, the shopping, the near death experiences i live through every time i get in a car, the novelty of marking all directions with milestones instead of streets. i love the apartment living that reminds me so much of college with the upgrade of better furniture, better drinks and no classes to sleep through. and the people, well, just dont get me started, because i have certainly met some quality people here.

so, i was thinking of all the things i love about my korean lifestyle (which is really led mostly like an american, but still...) and i began to think of what i will miss most. while there are several things vying for number 2 on the list...living arrangement, friends, purses, travel, etc, there is only one thing worthy of the number 1 position. her name is ms. hong and i love her. and while she has made me feel a little spoiled and a little lazy, she also makes me feel rested and available on the weekends for that treasured family time. she is referred to as an "ojima" and although i hired a housekeeper in rapid city (many of you remember crazy sharon stories) to help out and while she was a good helper, she was no ms. hong.

i havent done laundry in over 2 months. im not kidding. i havent ironed since i moved here and i cant for the life of me find a place to leave my initials in the dust. shes kind, she works hard and georgia loves her. there is a small part of me, who after hearing stories of families that moved their ogimas back to the states with them, wants to find a house with a separate living area for sweet ms. hong (itd have to be very separate with not even shared ventilation because that kimchee smell is the kind you want to leave at the restaruant, not scent your home with.)

so while i may be a little spoiled and a little lazy, with ms. hongs help, i am also happier, more relaxed and thankful that my time in korea is going so swimmingly. and i will miss her. a lot. and after chatting with myself, its not all for self serving reasons either (i swear). i love the korean she speaks to georgia, i look forward to her arrival at our home and i will miss her kindness that she shows me in broken english and sweet eyes. my time here will be marked with many things, but the highlight may just be my time spent with ms. hong....and my red jimmy choo.

massage etiquette

there are so many different ways i am able to spell 'awkward' in my life. there simply isnt enough time in the day for me to write or for you to read all the creative ways i have found to experience the glorious and sickening heights of discomfort. there was the time i was getting a massage at a spa with mr. hands all over me to the point where every part of me thought i should say something, but i, drowning in my bone dry well of assertiveness, could not for the life of me muster any words. instead i endured rather than enjoyed the latter part of my massage and didnt tip as generously. i know some people who would have said something, quit the 'relaxing' experience, demanded a refund and spread a few rumors, but im not that girl. not that i dont want to be, its just that im not. i seem to possess zero assertiveness until im highly irritated and its then that i boldly skip assertive and head straight to raging biatch. how i wish it werent so, but thats actually not what this post is about...


rather, im wondering when you are getting a manicure or pedicure (as i was today) and hard working cosmetologist is actively massaging those hands and feet, what do you say? do you say nothing and not let her know this is actually the best part of the whole shabang or do you encourage with some degree of verbal feedback? i feel weird even maintaining eye contact and yet i dont want to appear disinterested or lackadaisical (after all the painted pigs and fingers are simply bonus to the relaxing rub down), but its just a bit awkward during those moments when a total stranger is working hard at making you feel good and all the things that you could say somehow within this encounter with a stranger all sound just a little bit inappropriate. so, let me know...how can i keep the best part of the service going without feeling totally weirded out? or worse, being the source of a discussion around a mat of kimchee during break...

s.k.i. #4

okay, she's cute. she's ours and generally speaking in spite of the rapidly approaching milestone of 2, we will keep her a bit longer (being this close to potty training, we arent ready to give her back after our hard work is just beginning to pay off), but this little one
is the cause of our most recent strange korean incident.

i will start by saying this little country of south korea (i only mention 'south' because a disturbing number of you have in fact asked me to clarify that more than a few times) is a very hospitable place, especially compared to our not so neighborly counterparts in north korea. really the only things thus far driving me crazy here are the smell (seriously, we could really use a downpour of febreeze) and the fact there is no word used for 'excuse me' as in 'pardon me, you are in my way'. the alternative is a lot of pushing, leaning, shoving, inadvertent molesting...you get the idea. one of the things i do love most about this country is they LOVE children, particularly american children, especially the blond variety. ive heard various reasons for the love affair from it 'being considered good luck in their culture to touch the head of a blond kid' to 'they just dont see very many' and the list goes on and on. i have yet to confirm the source of the admiration, but i have seen the proof. it is what i believe kept the nice korean woman lucky enough to be in the seat in front of georgia on the short 15 hour flight over here from tossing the peach out an exit door mid flight.

and while it is flattering, really, it is being the one who makes up half of those super cute genes, it is taking just a wee bit of self control to not offer some purell to the masses of toucherbys. seriously, speak to her, glance at her, touch her hand if you must, but the grabbing and kissing has got to stop. we went up to seoul this weekend for a family day in insadong (a really great art district we were told about from a friend) and while it was awesome getting out of our fishbowl known as songtan, it did not come without a few hiccups. namely the fact that we were stopped every 3-5 FEET for pictures, well wishes and of course lots and lots of touching. georgia was in a great mood and more than willing to wow the masses with her limited korean as she said hello and thank you and brought smiles to all around. but seriously...i kept wanting to let them know we werent the nannies in possession of baby jolie-pitt, this was in fact our own home made peach who while in fact is blond and has brought us a great deal of joy (and sleepless nights, but who is asking), she is no buddha and will not be bringing good luck to any of you...therefore, no need to keep touching.

i was very proud of myself in that i didnt pull out the hand sanitizer or give the 'leave me alone look' and i didnt start charging for pictures. instead pat and i continued to stop, have georgia jump through her 2 korean words tricks, smile and move on...at a snails pace. it didnt take long before we decided to head to the only milestone we know is universal and easy to pronounce for a taxi...mcdonalds in seoul. there, our little abduction waiting to happen sprinted between tables full of strangers trying to grab and talk to her. not surprisingly, it was the only place we saw any westerners and that was only a table of 3 that gk had no interest in. so, maybe our little one is somewhat of a novelty here, not as novel as a white dragon, but rare nonetheless. we waited there for over an hour trying to keep the peach entertained and in our possession for a cab that never showed before hitting the streets again to chase down (nothing like manhattan where you wave down, here chasing down is the preferred way to indicate youd like a ride) another taxi.

i have found that the language barrier is 80% comical and 20% frustrating for us. im guessing the cab driver who thought we meant yongsan train station when we said 'yongsan station' instead of 'yongsan army station' and as a result drove the opposite direction of where we needed to go and had to spend an unusually long time with 2 americans and one very tired and fussy toddler (he clearly didnt get the white dragon novelty thing) has an 80% frustrating, 10% annoying and 10% infuriating ratio of the language barrier. he stopped at the wrong place and when we refused to get out (did i mention an hour in a nasty mcdonalds and chasing of cabs) he threw his hands in the air and began communicating very effectively for not a single word in english that he was not happy with us. really?? we arent tickled either. our good luck charm is car seat less in the back of your crazy ass cab currently melting down while her caretakers are hungry, have to pee and just want someplace semi sanitary to accomplish both. we offered a half hearted apology (how can it really be sincere when you dont even have the right word?) and said 'army' slowly as if maybe he just didnt understand our pronunciation of the word as opposed to the entire meaning of the word.

he did eventually find a place that looked semi secure and dropped us off at one of maybe a dozen gates to yongsan army station. we tipped him and thanked him and felt bad enough we would have let him rub georgias head like a buddha belly if he asked, but he didnt and so ended our day with the white dragon and the paparrazi. once on american soil (it seems strange they even refer to it as that), we hiked to our waiting car and headed back to the fishbowl. it was a lot of fun and an interesting cultural experience, but the next time we head to seoul for the day we will have lined up some child care for the rare one.

new years resolutions

can it possibly be 2008 and am i a total dork because writing "2007" just starting feeling natural a couple of months ago?? i find the whole new years resolution thing to be a unique phenomenon...that one day a year you would actually highlight your faults and plan to do better (dont the vast majority of people do this at least weekly, if not daily anyway??) all the while sharing your lofty goals and aspirations with anyone faining interest only to crash and burn around day 6 of the new year. i have not been immune to this and have finally decided that if i throw this on the blog in size 12 font for all the world (or all 8 of you that read) to see, maybe there would be some degree of accountability to really keep me on track. after a lot of reflection and thought, these are just a few things i think i may be able to manage to keep up with::

1. i will not gain more than 5 lbs in 2008. anymore than that better have a really great explanation like growing a child or a new interest in body building.
2. i will drink red wine exclusively for the health benefits to my heart.
3. i will not place any gap orders online after benefiting my heart.
4. i will take the stairs WITHOUT complaining when the elevator is not running as fast as my feet could.
5. i will not buy myself a pair of $100 running shoes as incentive to take the stairs more often.
6. i will not purchase any ice cream in mass quantities with the exception of hazelnut dream.
7. i will stop perusing the volvo dealership without patrick with me.
8. i will order something other than chicken pad thai every 4th time we go out for thai food.
9. i will stop answering my phone until i have had a cup of coffee (some of you are relieved, i know)
10. i will slow down when approaching a pedestrian crosswalk instead of speeding up, hoping to pass the intersection before peds get to the curb...its obnoxious and dangerous...i was never a crossing guard.

thats my quick list. if you have any to add, feel free. im just hoping i wont fail myself this year. happy new year to you and yours and may 2008 be a great one!!

Merry Christmas

we had an outstanding Christmas day celebrating the birth of Jesus. pat and i are both anxious for peach to begin understanding the real meaning of the day and participate in all the traditions...this year she was in bed when we read the Christmas story on Christmas Eve and we decided to forgo the birthday cake for baby Jesus as i knew it would be yours truly putting down the majority of it. we enjoyed a candle light service on Christmas Eve until georgia announced at 8 pm that she wanted her 'paci and crib'...with that we hummed joy to the world and made a quick exit out the back. while trying to buy ourselves a few more minutes in the lobby she continued asking for her paci (which we conveniently left at home) until finally a fellow mama rocking her infant in the universal spot for disruptive children said she had an extra that we could have. i gratefully accepted while hoping that her baby wasnt carrying any major viruses and gave the paci to georgia. she still has it in her possession and refers to it as 'some babies' paci. she didnt wake up until 9 on Christmas day and we, as all well meaning parents do promptly ushered her to the tree to begin opening her gifts...no time to waste, we had a meal to prepare for 10 friends spending the day with us. here are a few pics of the morning...truly a great family day....minus a whole lot of family we are missing.

gratitude and what not

i am a huge fan of gratitude in any and all forms. make a list, write a note, lift a prayer or tell a friend, just BE grateful. i am blogging this down today because lately i have been unbelievably homesick for the holidays (a post i started but decided in the end it read like a really lame spoiled kid missing the luxuries of home while surrounded by luxuries of a different kind) and opening every package that arrives with sappy tears followed by a pity party and sometimes even the ugly cry (oprah would be so proud). i typically am able to see the silver lining so to speak and readily point it out to others when needed and yet, here i am in korea with better half and peach for another joyous Christmas season and the only thing i seem to notice is my lack of decor (one tub accidentally got sent to storage), my lack of family (besides the above mentioned), and my lack of holiday traditions (although i have a new one...have i mentioned hazelnut dream?).

i went to chapel last night bitching almost incessantly about my cold (clearly ive been too healthy for too long if a cold is all it takes) and checked my watch as we sat down...this has become an annoying habit of mine that i intend to break by no longer wearing a watch to church and then i waited to get this church show on the road. this is the first base chapel that pat and i have ever attended and we have really begun to love it. it keeps us grateful as one scan of the pews reminds us that we are one of the few families that are not separated by this korea assignment. but last night, God, in His infinite wisdom and clarity stopped my "woe is me" train in its tracks. we have never been part of a church that was small enough to share prayer requests in the middle of the service, but here, at this small and intimate gathering of people who all have more than a few things in common, church starts with sharing needs.
here is what i remember::

1. pray for carol whose husband (my best friend) was blown up in iraq last month. she and her two young boys will be spending their first christmas without him.
2. pray for rose, my mother, who lost my father suddenly in an accident 3 months ago. while i am here, it is going to be a particularly lonely christmas for her.
3. pray for my childhood friend, andrea, who was less than 20 yards from the gunman at new life church in the foyer moments before he was shot dead by the security guard.
4. pray for my sister, tracey, who is unwed, 19 and pregnant. we are a family in crisis.
5. pray for tina and patrick, neighbors from a previous assignment who lost their baby girl as she slept last week.

so there it is. my moment when finally the tears i shed were legit. shed on behalf of families in crisis, of loved ones gripped by grief, of a brave young woman now mother, of loss and of loneliness and of gratitude. overwhelming and all consuming gratitude. who am i, that i should spend even a moment without pain? without grief? without suffering? who am i, that this Savior would come into the world in the most humble of ways, wailing and willing, covered in blood and yet sinless and pure bringing the gift, the grace, the hope and the joy of it all to mankind and to me? i will soak in this sea of gratitude and lift heartfelt prayers on behalf of those drowning in grief and despair. i will mark these names, carol, rose, andrea, tracey, tina and patrick in my memory and carry them with me through the upcoming weeks. if you have a moment, a second, a brief period when you can pause in the business of these weeks and remember them as well, i would be grateful. and if you know someone, a name that you would like me to add to my list, please pass them onto me. i will spend this season remembering the joy of it all, the significance of this holiday and the blessings that are too numerous to count but i will be mindful, prayerful and even tearful remembering those who at this time while surrounded by lights, carols and commercialism are covered in too many layers of grief, loneliness, uncertainty and fear to even notice. my hope is that this season of blessings received becomes one of lavish giving and tremendous gratitude.