Take a sad song...

I know my bladder is squished to nothing right now, but I do believe I actually peed my pants laughing at this clip. Some SERIOUS cuteness:

Calling all my homeys...

Girls, you out there? We're setting up the girls' night out NOW. Oh my god, I'm so excited. This is one of my FAVORITE TV series. I never get to the movies anymore, but I'm booking a babysitter NOW. I know, I'm shallow. I'm in good company. Label me, I don't care.

Shoulda...

I know this may be TMI (too much information) for some of you readers, but this pregnancy has brought with it a whole host of digestive complications for me. Fun stuff. First it was constipation...well, at times, it's STILL constipation. Lately though, my intestines and bladder have been smushed to almost nothing, so when the train starts choo-chooing, there's no stopping it. In other words, when I have to go, I HAVE TO GO. Such was the case this morning while driving to work. What can I say? Mama had to go. So I pull over to the nearest restroom stop on the way which happened to be a nice food joint called "Corner Bakery". Of course, I've got the kid in the car with me.

As I pull up to a parking space, I'm still wrestling with the internal struggle - do I leave my kid in the car strapped in his carseat or do I do the responsible thing and get him out and take him with me? Well, better judgement, twangs of guilt, and paralyzing fear that the couple eating a lovely breakfast on the patio would call Child Protective Services the minute I locked the car got to me, so I haul the kid out of the carseat and rush him into the restaurant and bathroom with me. As par for the course, though, the entire time he is asking me (loudly) what we are doing and if mommy has to go potty. Once I shuffle him into the stall with me (thank goodness the larger handicapped stall was open) I close the door and grant myself sweet relief. But is it really much relief? Here I am, balancing my bare ass over the toilet seat (heaven forbid any part of me actually touches the public seat - even with a seat cover) trying to grab the kid's hands as he walks around a dirty, germy stall touching EVERYTHING in site, cringing in horror as he does so, and shushing him to be quiet because he is loudly asking me, "mommy, are you going pee pee or poo poo? Mommy, here's paper - wipe your vagina!" Then comes the balancing act of wiping, flushing, pulling up my pants...all with one hand because the other hand is firmly gripping both of the kid's arms so he won't put one hand in the toilet while it's flushing and the other hand in the maxi-pad disposal to see what's in there.

Next time, CPS be damned. I'm leaving him in the car.

What do you mean 5 more months?

Ok, I'm tired. I'm really tired. Being pregnant the second time around is a *tad* different. I'm cranky. I feel huge already. I'm uncomfortable. And I'm only about 20 weeks along. And you know what? I know I'm only going to get crankier. Get bigger. More uncomfortable. Friends and family should run and hide NOW.

The avalanche

Oh my god, my kid has a lot of clothes. Seriously. It's a lot. His closet is pretty big...takes up a whole wall of his bedroom...and it's full. Now, in my defense, he wears a ton of it. All of it, as a matter of fact. While some of that is due to my laundry aversion (I figure if he has at least 14-20 outfits I can go 2 weeks without doing laundry) some of is due to the fact that the kid wears through clothing like nobody's business. He goes to daycare where a few times a week he comes home in a different outfit than what I sent him in. Right now, in our Southern California "winter" I'm layering him, which means he's wearing twice the amount of clothing at the beginning of the day than he would at mid-day. Also, the kid REFUSES to wear a blanket at night. I mean he HATES any type of covering while sleeping. He's been like that since day one. So, when the temperature drops in the middle of the night and mommy and daddy are under a down comforter, all I can do for the kid is dress him in 2-3 layers of PJ's. Let's take a minute to do the math. For the sake of argument, 2 layers of PJ's per night...he gets fresh PJ's every night (which is more than I can say for mommy)...figure in my hatred of laundry...well, really, we need to stock about 20 pairs of PJ's this time of year. No wonder I have to shove things into the closet.

But, truth be told, a LOT of it is because there is a crapload of REALLY STINKIN CUTE stuff out there for kids. And seeing the kid in an adorable outfit makes me SO happy. Like REALLY happy. It's my crack, the children's clothing. I'm sure you've noticed in the sidebar linky's to my favorite sites. Notice how one of the links is a clothing shop link? I seriously LOVE mini-Boden stuff for kids. You can't find stuff like this everywhere. It totally suits the skater/thrasher look that has become the kid's signature style (Don't worry, I see you all out there in cyberspace rolling your eyes at the notion that my kid has a "signature style" at age 2. Don't think that I myself don't think I'm crazy at times.) But the cute factor is SO high. Check out these adorable outfits for spring. Please ignore the raised arms. For some odd reason, when I ask the kid to smile for the camera, he raises his arms. I don't ask questions.:





Lest you think that I spend this much money on the kids' entire closet, let me tell you, I'm in love Old Navy for the kid as well. Right now, they are having their baby and kids sale - everything is 40% off! I cannot stand the cuteness of these patchwork shorts...mostly because they have matching daddy shorts (thanks Mama for tipping me off to them)! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I will have the cutest family EVER! By the way, they are simply adorable with these polos.

Wow, this post was pretty shallow. Whatever. Like I said, it's my crack. Other stores that feed the addiction: Hanna Andersson (especially for infant clothing - swoon!), Lucky Brand Kids, Tea Collection- let me tell you, baby #2 will be decked out in their daily tea line, Naartjie - love their summer stuff for daycare. and occasionally Gymboree and Janie and Jack, although I truly believe that the Gymboree corporation is run by Columbian drug lords. That company knows how to suck you in no matter how many times you've sworn them off. See how much time I spend on this? But the first step is admitting to yourself that you have a problem. For what it's worth, I know I crazy. Now, what's that next step again?

Coming out

Today I am 17 weeks pregnant. Well, at least according to the ultrasound I had at 10 weeks, 1 day pregnant. This pregnancy has been so different than my pregnancy with the kid. With the kid, we had been actively "trying" for the better part of 7 months. I was charting my basal body temperature, keeping close eyes on last menstrual cycles and ovulation days. With the kid, I knew I was pregnant even before the stick turned pink. Um, not so this time around.

This time around I was shocked. Really, truly shocked. And when I went to take a store-bought test (I cheaped out and bought the one with the 2 lines...one is the control line and the other line tells you if you are preggers or not), I didn't really believe it. It's not that I didn't WANT to believe, M and I have always wanted/wished/hoped for a second child and our decision to stop with the birth control was made consciously and carefully, but this happened a lot faster than the first time. When I took the store-bought cheapie test, that second line was FAINTLY pink. Like barely even there. It drove me nuts! Was I or wasn't I? Lesson learned - don't cheap out when buying pregnancy tests. Spend the extra $3 and get the digital one. Skip your freakin' Starbucks and GET THE DIGITAL ONE.

Anyway, we are elated to be adding to our family. The kid is quite clear that he's going to be a kuya and that there is a baby in mommy's belly. He hugs, talks and kisses the baby quite often. At first, he didn't quite get it and when M and I told him there was a baby in mommy's belly, the kid lifted my shirt, pulled on my belly fat (yup, there's enough to pull on...even when not pregnant), and demanded, "take it out! Get out, baby!"

Last week, though, I caught the kid staring at my belly button. He met my eyes and asked, "Mommy, what's that?" while pointing at my belly button. I explained to him that mommy's belly button was there to keep the baby alive...and that that's how the baby gets food. So, being the benevolent big brother, he scoops up some water in his cupped hands (he was in the bathtub), holds his hands up to my belly button and offers the baby a drink. I can hardly stand I'm laughing so hard. Flash forward to today. I have fallen asleep in our living room chair and the kid is snuggled up to me watching TV and eating his cheerios. I wake up and find that he's lifted up my shirt and there is a cheerio in my belly button. Seriously. You can't even make this stuff up.

Supa Tuesday - Part deux

Just wanted to add...it's almost 11:00pm here on the left coast and I'm still GLUED to the election results on TV. I really can't remember the last time I was so interested in primary or caucus results. But I've been watching and reading about both Democratic and Republican nomination races since the Iowa caucuses. Note - I am NOT a politico. In fact, I am normally quite apathetic when it comes to politics. However, this is a party train I can get on. Whoo whoo!

Supa Tuesday

I'm excited. We are living in an amazing and exiting time. For the first time in the history of the United States of America, there will be either a woman or a black man in a VERY good position to become the next President. Either a woman or a black man will be the democratic party's nomination for President of the United States of America. I honestly never thought I would see this in my lifetime. Years ago, even before I had children, I had hoped that my children would see it happen in their lifetime, but I wasn't too optimistic. Call me cynical.

But it's happening, it's really happening. And I feel proud. Not because of any of my own efforts, I'm not necessarily proud of me, but I'm proud of this country. I'm proud that there are enough Americans out there who can plow through all the bull$hit that's out there and stand up for what they believe in - stand up for change and have their voices heard. I'm proud that I can tell and give real-life examples to the kid that tell him, when it comes down to it, that while gender and race may make it harder/easier to achieve whatever your goals may be, they certainly don't automatically qualify/disqualify you from them. That's seriously cool.

I actually voted in California's early voting two weeks ago. They had polling places set up around the county and they were open for about a week. Conveniently, they set one up right at the University where I work. Thank goodness because the last time I tried to vote with a toddler in tow...well, let's just say I didn't (not that I didn't do vote, I just drove back and forth to my polling place/daycare so that I could vote without a 2 year old pulling on my legs and trying to press all the buttons himself.)

So I placed my vote for my man Barack. LOVE me some Barack Obama. Would LOVE this country to have a President Obama. Now, truth be told, I did feel a twinge of guilt about not voting for a woman. I almost felt like I'd betrayed my ideals as a feminist. But at the heart of feminism is freedom and equality, right? The freedom to make those choices regardless of your gender? Well, then, my choice was for Obama. Of course, I will still be elated should Hilary win the nomination, they are, in my opinion, close in position on many of the issues most important to me. Should Hilary win the nomination my complete rally of support will definitely go to her. But there is just something about the way Barack speaks. He's got a way about him...a way to move people...a way that Hilary just doesn't have. I actually find Hilary to be more divisive than Barack. So my rally cry is Obama '08. Spread the word, friends. It's supa tuesday.

What fun! I've been tagged!

Ok, I'm a little giddy. Like the dorky non-athlete who never gets picked and is suddenly picked. I've been tagged for a fun blogging game from my wonderfully witty Mama friend. So here goes. I'm a newbie in the blogging universe, so I hope I get this right.

The rules:

1) Link to the person that tagged you.
2) Post the rules on your blog.
3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4) Tag at least three people at the end of your post and link to their blogs.
5) Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6) Let the fun begin!

And here are my answers:

1) I have an unnatural fear of birds. Seriously, it's almost paralyzing. And I've never even seen Alfred Hitchcock's movie, "The Birds". Doing so may cause me to seizure. Birds just freak me out. The thought of one in my hand, flittering and fluttering around is completely horrifying. When M and I were looking for houses, we went to an open house of what would have been the perfect home for us. Single story, large backyard (unheard of in these parts), 3 bedrooms and in a perfect neighborhood. Well, as we toured the home, I stroll into the master bedroom, liking everything I see. Then I face M, who is standing there stone-faced. He tells me, "Ok, don't freak out, but turn around slowly". I follow directions and come face-to-face with two parrots sitting on a perch. NOT IN A CAGE. Just out in the open like that. Of course, I freak and RUN out of the house. Seriously, who the hell leaves birds out in the open like that when they are holding an open house!?!?!? Anyway, needless to say, I couldn't face buying that house. No matter how perfect. Oh...and don't even get me started about the time an ostrich (YES, A FREAKIN' OSTRICH!) tried to kill me on the Kilimanjaro Safari ride at Walt Disney World.

2) I hate the rain. I do, and boy do I feel guilty about it in drought-stricken Southern California. I know we need it, I know it's so beneficial, but I hate it when it rains.

3) I can't live without carne asada tacos. I have to have them. They are an addiction. And they have to be made from GOOD carne asada. Not like the "steak taco" knockoffs you get at chains like Chipotle. That stuff's crap. I want it grilled in manteca, marinated for hours, and served in a fat-laden tortilla. You can't get that outside of Southern California. It's one of the main reasons M and I never moved out of state. I kid you not. We're that shallow.

4) I love hot showers. LOVE LOVE LOVE them. I take two a day. I know it's wasteful use of precious resources (see previous reference about drought-stricken California) and my skin is dry as a lizard because of it, but they feel good. So sue me.

5) My eyelids crease funny. Well, one does. My right eyelid has a typical fold. The single fold like people of non-asian descent (even though I am asian) . But my left eyelid has a triple fold. Like it doesn't crease in just one place. I think it makes my eyes look lopsided, but anyone who I've ever pointed it out to insists they cannot tell. Maybe it's just me. We are, after all, our own worst critics at times.

6) My right foot is ever so slightly larger than my left. And my big toe on my right foot protrudes upward moreso than the left. Hence, I've got a tiny hole in my right Ugg boot. Makes me sad...I love my Ugg boots.

Ok, so there are six quirky things about me. Took me longer than I expected to come up with them. For my first time, I hope I did ok! Anyway, I'm supposed to tag three others, but again, as a newbie to blogging, I don't have that many friends who are blogging. Well, not any that might have already been tagged. But, I'm a stickler for rules, so here goes:

Tagging now: Maureen - seeing if I can get her in before her lenten deadline, Ann - because you know, she doesn't have enough to do with 3 kids (one a newborn), and Joyce - but I'm sure she's done this before (sorry mama, I ran out of blogs - LOL!)