24 hours

How much can happen in 24 hours?

A vomiting 4-year-old who can't keep anything down.
A power outage that started in the middle of the boys' bedtime routine.
Tornado sirens through the night.
Uncharged phones.
Sleeping on the floor outside of the boys' rooms [because no power means no monitors] so we could hear when Finley was throwing up or Eli wanted to eat or Sebi needed something.
All the anxiety that comes from the swirling thoughts of "How long is it okay for him to go with zero intake?" and "At what point do we need to get everyone out of bed and take them to the basement?"

So much stress.
So much prayer.

But God is good.

The 4-year-old ate some toast and applesauce today. He finally had enough energy to get off the couch this afternoon and play and laugh and bicker.
The sirens didn't wake anyone up.
The power came back on last night so we didn't have to spend the whole night miserable and uncomfortable in the hallway.
The tornados passed just east of us with no damage to our house.

I'm still decompressing from my drastically heightened state of emotion. I do not handle "unknown health status of my child" well at all and seeing the contents of your baby's stomach repeatedly emptied onto the floor or into a bucket rates pretty high on my personal scale of traumatizing events. So I've basically been useless the last 36 hours or so. But Jason.

Jason has been incredible. He thoroughly cleaned up the very purple, blueberry oatmeal vomit from the carpet and couch. Every single time Finley thought he was about to throw up, Jason was there to hold the bucket and comfort him. He went to work late and came home early to help me with the kids. He kept a close eye on the storm radar throughout the night. He was always positive, always helpful, always trying to get me to laugh or improve my mood. I love this man with all my heart.

This has not been the weekend we envisioned. But I think we've made it through. Thanks be to God.

The saddest sight

Finally, a spark of regular Finley after 36 hours of sad Finley ♥️♥️♥️

the magical donkey

Eli has always been my most finicky baby to nurse (not that you can tell by his physique), and I do not care for it. It is the type of thing that stresses me out big time. He goes through terrible phases of just refusing to cooperate any time it's time to nurse. We are in one of those phases right now (albeit not the worst one, thankfully) and he was just screaming at me every time I tried to feed him. 

Finally, at my wit's end, I sat him up, randomly grabbed his stuffed donkey, and nuzzled it in his face. He almost instantly stopped crying, if only to investigate this new turn of events, and then wrapped his chubby little arms around the donkey. I decided to risk lying him down to nurse again, holding my breath, waiting for him to start screaming at me again, but... he didn't. He latched. He ate. He kept a tight grip on his donkey. And he fell asleep. 

And my soul calmed. 

His little hands squeezing furry ears. His steady breathing in and out. His body relaxed against mine. I let both of us rest in that moment, waiting those few extra minutes before putting him in bed.

Is it a magical donkey? Will I be nursing my almost 21-pound, 7-month-old baby with a donkey squished between us from now on? Probably not. Most likely it was a one-time-only moment of sweetness. But I will take it. It was just what I, and apparently he, needed. 

This mama gig is the most emotionally trying and emotionally fulfilling job in the world. But even on the hard days, I love it more than words can say.
 

goldfish, down the hatch!

Today Sebastian accidentally knocked an entire open bag of goldfish crackers upside-down onto the open air vent. As I heard them pour down the vent, clinking and clanking as they went, I was so.annoyed. The first thing out of my mouth was an exasperated "Why would you do that?!"

Sigh.

It is such a pointless question to ask, especially of a 2-year-old. Why did he do that? Because he's not super aware of his surroundings and moves without thinking. Because he's human and he makes mistakes. Because he's a child, who is in need of grace on the daily.

It is such a pointless question and yet I hear myself asking it of one child or another at least once every.single.day. Inevitably, once the exasperation has worn off a bit, I hear myself and I find myself so annoyed by my reaction. It wasn't a big deal, probably less than a dollar's worth of crackers wasted, clearly a harmless accident. Why do I let my knee-jerk reaction be one of pointless shaming? Why would I do that?!

And then I hear myself. Again. Using the same phrase to shame myself for unthinkingly shaming my child not five minutes ago. 

Sigh. 

Why would I do that? Basically for the same reason my 2-year-old does things [only with a wee bit extra awareness of my surroundings]. Because I do and say things without thinking. Because I am an imperfect human who makes mistakes. Because I am a child of God who is in need of His grace on the daily.

I am so glad God's knee-jerk reaction is not an annoyed "Why would you do that?!" but rather a patient "I love you. Here's how I can help you make it right." So that is what I will work towards: Less shame, more grace, and not leaving open bags of snacks around.

Completely unrelated: We need to buy some more gold fish from Costco soon. 

mama's boy

My little Sebastian. 

He has always intensely been a Mama's boy, as a baby and even now as a toddler. I cannot step into the kitchen without him running in, dragging a chair over to the counter, and saying, "Mama, what doing? What making? Want see that." He loves to help load and unload the dishwasher, peer into every jar I open, hand me dishes to rinse, and taste test everything. He is such a sweet, shy, affectionate boy.

Recently, he has been dealing with all the big emotions. Just bursting into tears at random times and answering our "What's wrong? What made you sad?" with wails of "I don't knoooow!" He has also been deliberately testing his boundaries, knowingly doing things he's told not to or flat out refusing to obey. It's been a lot, for all parties involved.

I imagine it is hard being at that in between age of No Longer a Baby But Not Quite Yet a Big Kid. New freedoms, new abilities. But also new expectations, new rules. Sometimes I fear he must find life confusing and parents hypocritical.

But, I know he will get through it. I know we will get through it. There will be a lot of tears and unexplainable moments of body-shaking frustration, yes. But, I promise you, my darling boy, they will be countered with a lot of hugs, a whole bunch of snuggling, and the always promise of "I love you no matter what." 

You will forever be mama's little boy, Sebi ♥️

the beginning of the end of the wegs

Since Eli joined the family this past May, I have been feeling all kinds of feelings about Finley, my little independent, sensitive, affectionate 4-year-old. I have been fluctuating between feeling like he's falling between the cracks in true middle child fashion [Lucas gets more one-on-one school time and craves a lot of affirmation; Sebastian, while not the true baby of the family anymore, still requires the attention that a baby of the family/still too recently usurped baby of the family would demand; and Eli needs the attention that an actual baby needs - it doesn't leave much for the kid who is usually content watching others, following along, or independently doing his own thing] and feeling like the main attention we give him is to question why he isn't acting older than his age [he is left to his own devices, curiously/absentmindedly/mischievously does something he maybe shouldn't, and gets soundly reprimanded with a barrage of "Why would you do that? You're old enough to know better. What kind of example are you setting for your younger brothers?" Rinse and repeat.]. [Wow, that was like a Paul Writing to Galatians length sentence...] Sigh. It is not a great feeling and it is definitely an area that I've been brainstorming about for remedies. Time and energy are in short supply these days, in this particular stage, and I often find myself choosing the easy instead of the intentional, and Finley doesn't deserve that. 

But that is a whole other post for another time. Moving on.

Tonight's post is supposed to be simply about wegs. What are wegs, you ask? I have wegs. You have wegs. All God's people have wegs. [An Andy Griffith Show joke...] Wegs are what you get when your 4-year-old is talking about legs and cannot pronounce L's. Good old wegs. Finley loves to talk about wegs. He either hurt his weg or he created a monster with funny wegs or he has an itch on his weg or he needs his wegs lotioned. You get the picture. 

One day a long time ago, I pretended I didn't know what wegs were and the boys found it absolutely hilarious, so obviously, the joke has been repeated many times over. Finley knows we're just playing with him and has never indicated he's bothered by his inability to say legs correctly. I personally love his wegs and hoped he would forever call them wegs, but as you may have gathered from the title of this post, alas, this is not to be.

Last week, Finley was drawing a collection of pictures for a book he was making and he wanted to write the title on it all by himself. I could hear him start to get frustrated when what he was writing wasn't a word he expected to read. He had written "All of hde" across the top. I asked him what he wanted it to say and he told me it was supposed to say "All of the underwater creatures." I immediately saw his problem before he needed to explain further. Being the adorable 4-year-old that he is, all of his "th" sounds come out like "duh." That is "dat" and things are "dings" and the is "duh." He knew there was supposed to be an H and silent E in there, but he couldn't remember where the D went... Poor kid. I obviously helped him spell out his title [and he did a great job on all of his letters, by the way] and also explained, yet again, how "the" only sounds like there's a D because the "th" sound is hard to make for little kids. 

Well, a couple days after that, one of his school lessons for the day was actually about TH words, and it mentioned how to make the "th" sound by touching your tongue to your top teeth. He gave it a try and was met with some degree of success. He was able to clearly read aloud a few TH words with much flying spit and extreme concentration, which pleased him immensely. Of course, one exposure to this hint didn't do much for his regular speech and he continued to be all dis and dat and dings. But, in the middle of this teaching moment, I mentioned how making the L sound was created in a similar way and he gave it a few tries as well. 

Fast forward a few more days and I am in the boys' room, waking Sebastian up from his nap and extracting soggy paper corners from Eli's mouth, and Finley runs in to tell me something about wegs and then runs out. I, as per usual, pretended I didn't know what wegs were, expecting the burst of giggles and protestations that usually come from this joke. However, this time, instead of our usual back and forth weg banter, Finley solemnly came back into the room, stood up ramrod straight, thrust out his chin, put his tongue between his teeth, and slowly said, "LEGS." There was bubbling from his mouth and spit shooting places and such a look of strain and concentration on his face, but there was 100% an L sound. 

And while I heartily congratulated him and told him how impressed I was with his accomplishment [because it was very clear he was incredibly proud of himself], I felt such a pang of feelings. So many emotions. Ugh. Was he trying to change his speech because he discovered he could or because he felt like, because of our teasing, he needed to or maybe that we wanted him to? If the former, fine, I'll have to deal with my little boy growing up in yet another way. But what if it's the latter reason? Sigh. Parenting, man. It's all about overthinking everything. 

And that's that. Wegs may sadly be on the way out, so, obviously, I will never, ever, ever, ever make a wegs joke again. Ever. I need the wegs to stick around as long as possible. 

look at those two cute wegs

the incident

The weather has been beautiful lately. The boys have been absolutely loving getting outside and running about like mad. The humidity disappearing has been a real game changer and I am trying to take advantage of every single opportunity to get all of us outside before the fall weather abruptly disappears.

One of my favorite things is watching Lucas and Finley and Sebastian running after each other down the sidewalk while I follow behind with the stroller and a gleefully kicky baby. Lucas is in a constant state of adventure and imagination. Finley is the ever dutiful follower, until he's distracted by his own imaginations and falls so far behind that he is convinced there is no way he can possibly catch up. Sebastian is fully embracing life as one of the big kids and often gets drunk with his newfound freedom, often resulting in knee scrapes upon knee scrapes while he does his best to keep up with his longer-legged brothers. Eli is pleased to have enough torso and neck strength that he can ride in the regular stroller seat instead of his car seat for our walks. I love these moments. 

Getting ready for today's walk was a bit more eventful than usual, and a lot more eventful than I cared for. Get your judgement ready - I deserve it. Also get your Thank the Lord hands ready - He deserves it.

Lucas and Finley were playing in the driveway while I got Eli and Sebastian into the stroller. Once I had strapped Eli in, I remembered I wanted to get a toy for him to chew on. So, I locked the wheels of the stroller and walked back into the garage to retrieve the toy that was hooked on the single stroller we had used the day before. 

I suppose this is where I say I thought I had locked the wheels.

And you can now guess where this story is going.

Our stroller's back wheels lock together. There is a pedal on each side, but generally if you press one down, it pushes the other side down pretty effectively and the wheels are locked in place. Weird Detail #1: I distinctly remember securely locking the left side, but I also distinctly remember not putting much thought or effort into making sure the right side had firmly locked. It always feels redundant, and 199 times out of 200, it is. But then there's that one time...

Our driveway doesn't look particularly sloped, but it actually is extremely effective as a ramp for Things Prone to Rolling, as many games of "Catch that ball/truck/frisbee/boy before it rolls into the street!" have proven. Spoiler: I suppose I shall now have to add "stroller" to the list of things that have gone pell-mell down our deceptively not-flat driveway.

I was at the back of the garage untangling plastic toy links when I heard Lucas and Finley start laughing and giggling like crazy. Thankful #1: I actually turned to look, wanting to see what kind of fun they were having. There are many times I do not turn to see what is causing the laughter. If I had not turned and seen the stroller picking up speed down the driveway, the situation would have probably ended up much worse. [Now, why my 7-year-old and 4-year-old thought "this is a funny thing that is happening" instead of "this is a dangerous thing that is happening" is a whole other issue... multiple conversations and lessons for the future occurred throughout the rest of the day, you can be sure.]

So, I heard the laughter, I saw the careening stroller, and I took off at a dead sprint [yes, I am an excellent flip-flop-wearing sprinter]. There was no chance of me reaching the stroller before it went over the curb and into the street, and in those moments all I could think was, "Oh please don't tip, please don't tip over." Weird Detail #2: I didn't even once think, "Oh please don't let a car be coming." Thankful #2: The stroller bumped off the driveway, into the street, and did not tip over. I do not know how it did not tip going at the speed it was, at the angle it went off the driveway, at the completely uncontrolled nature of the rolling. Shout out to God's Undeserved Grace and the resilience and balance of our Joovy stroller. Thankful #3: No moving car was in sight. Weird Detail #3:  I noticed Sebastian looking backwards at me and I wanted to tell him to put his head back "inside" the stroller and to look forward so he could watch where he was going. Weird Detail #4: When I saw his face looking back at me, I thought, "I wonder if he's having fun." 

Our neighbors across the street were getting some lawn work done, so there was a truck and trailer parked in front of their house. The stroller was on a collision course with the side of the truck. I had a split second to relish the almost tangible relief from the stroller not tipping going off the driveway before I was filled with the next potential horror of the stroller smashing into the truck at an angle and tipping on contact. Thankful #4: I caught the stroller about two feet away from the side of the truck. Weird Detail #5: It felt like I took 2 strides to cover the distance from the bottom of our driveway to almost the other side of the street. This is surely impossible for my Korean legs, but that is what my brain registered. Stride, stride, catch. 

The boys were unscathed and unfazed. Eli was chilling, chewing on his hands. Sebi was telling me he wanted to go in the opposite direction [he had already requested to be that morning's "navigator" and was not pleased that the walk had apparently started in the wrong direction]. As I quickly pushed the stroller back into our driveway, I was overwhelmed with so many feelings and emotions: the fading edges of panic, the anxious "what if's," the anger at my neglect, the misplaced frustration towards my older two for not being more responsible in their reactions. But far and away the strongest emotion that crowded out all of the others was the absolute relief. It was like I had been holding my breath and I could finally breathe again. I am sure this all sounds melodramatic and perhaps not like a big deal, especially since everything came out okay in the end, but in the moment, it was a take-a-few-years-off-my-life blur of happenings. Do not care to repeat.

Thankful #5: Lucas. Finley. Sebastian. Eli.
Thankful #6: Beautiful days for beautiful walks [though, from here on out, I prefer less exciting beginnings, thank you very much] 
Thankful #7: Everything God.

Weird Detail #6: I felt a pretty substantial amount of relief that no neighbors were outside to witness my embarrassing failure as a parent.

So there you have it. To sum up my takeaways:

• I will always double check the wheel locks on the stroller.
• I no longer feel the need to justify my shoe choice to anyone.
• If Sebi and Eli become adrenaline junkies, I will know why.
• My star rating of our Joovy has increased from a 9/10 to a 13/10. Would buy again [but thankfully I do not need to as I did not smash up this one this morning].
• Oh my gravy.

The walk following this heart gripping incident was pleasantly boring and I have zero complaints about this.

fortuitous mustarding

The following story is 100% true and gives an extremely accurate glimpse into how we live life within the four walls of our home. Prepare yourselves.

Being both a doting wife and a culinary master, I was in the process of creating an elaborate lunch for Jason to take to work [read: turkey and cheese sandwich] and I needed to open a new mustard bottle. I took off the cap so I could remove the protective seal, twisted the cap back on, gave the bottle a quick shake [because no one wants that thin mustard juice from the top of a new mustard to be dripped onto their sandwich], and then popped open the cap. I have successfully performed this process with many a mustard bottle. 

But today, when the cap popped open, it exploded globs of mustard every which way. One glob landed on the slice of bread, one splatted on the floor, and one daintily plopped on my arm. While Sebastian [my ever present kitchen assistant (who is unashamedly there for the sole purpose of sneaking bites of things)] laughed at me and exclaimed "Uh-oh!" repeatedly, I cleaned up the floor splat, took a picture of the amusing situation, swiped the arm mustard onto my knife, and smeared the arm mustard onto the bread. I then called to Jason in the other room and asked, "Do you mind if I still use the mustard from my arm on your sandwich?" His answer was prompt and unsurprising: "I don't care. It's fine with me." 

And that, my friends, is reason #4,831 why Jason and I are soulmates [and reason #390 why we do not host parties].

sound bites

Some points to consider:

1. It has been five months since our last post.

2. There is nothing we can do about that now.

3. I want to make dumplings.

With the end of summer upon us and the start of a new work semester for Jason and a pleasingly squishy baby to carry around all day and night, it is clearly an excellent time to attempt blogging more frequently than every five months. An easy toe-dip-into-the-pool post is deserved though, so I shall yet again empty my phone's notepad of all the hilarity and weirdness that I have collected over the past eon and call it a night.

May I see you again soon, ol' blog, ol' friend.

**********

Lucas: "Numberetical. Like alphabetical."

*Sebi fussing at Finley*

Jason: "Finley, play nicely. Ugh, I mean Sebi. Finley, you're fine. I meant, Finley, play nicely."

Me: "You mean Sebi."

Jason: "Agh, there's too many of them."

Finley: "Dear God, thank you for my food. Thank you for red, blue, and pink. Thank you for the implexus I cried about. Thank you for the A book. Thank you for everything in our house. Amen."

Finley: "That's a watermelon."

Jason: "It looks like a watermelon, but I think it's a ball."

Finley: "Wucas says it's a watermelon."

Jason: "I don't think they're throwing a watermelon. They're throwing a ball."

Finley: "But Wucas told me it's a watermelon."

Me: "Lucas doesn't know everything, Finley. Daddy knows a lot of things too. Who do you think knows more, Daddy or Lucas?"

Finley: "Wucas."

Finley: "What if Wucas was a grown-up but he still wore wittle shoes?"

Me: "Careful, Finley, don't fall off the bed."

Finley: "Why?"

Finley: "I'm making a jump house."

Me: "You're making a what?"

Lucas: "He means a bounce house."

Me: "Something smells gross."

Finley: "Mommy, what smells is the AIR."

Me: "Well, yes, but-."

Finley: "BAD air."

Finley: "All of the songs inside my head escaped, except one. It's called Let It Go."

Jason: "I may not be as good as a potato."

Finley: "Ooh, is that a radio tower?"

Lucas: "No, that's actually the Eiffel Tower. Though, I guess, they DO use the Eiffel Tower to send radio signals so... you're kinda right!"

Finley, eating the head off of a goldfish: "Look, now he is a [gibberish] to eat other fish!"

Me: "A what?"

Finley: "A [gibberish]."

Me: "A bow?"

Finley: "No, a [gibberish]!"

Me: "A burp?"

Finley: "No, a... A thing that you can pick food out of."

Me: "Ohhh, a BOWL."

Finley, swimming the headless goldfish around in the air: "Yeah, a [gibberish]. I made him into a [gibberish] so he can just scoop other fish right into his belly."

Lucas: "I would MUCH rather have a salad than a potato."

Me: "Don't play with the sponge, buddy."

Finley: "Why? Is it full of boogers?"

Finley, completely out of nowhere: "I'm not a pirate. I don't have only one eye." 

Finley, referring to Sebastian: "He's like poopy crocodile." 

Lucas: "Mommy, I realized something. If you do nothing, you're actually doing something. It may seem impossible, but it's true."

Finley: "Mommy, this food is so good that I don't even need a spoonful of applesauce for me to eat it."

Finley: "A baby is driving the car."

Me: "A baby? What makes him a baby?"

Finley: "He has short legs and short pants."

Lucas: "Three yes votes is more than one no vote."

Finley: "Mommy, why is there a turtle statue up there?"

Me: "Oh, that's actually from a real turtle! It's a real turtle shell. The turtle probably died and someone cleaned out the shell and kept it."

Finley: "...so when you die, your back falls off?"

Me: "So what were you doing before breakfast?"

Lucas: "Legos. I am building someone for my monster. And then they will play Build A Baby."

Me: "...how do you play that?"

Lucas: "Well, it's a two-player game."

Me: "Right..."

Lucas: "And the monsters take turns building a baby, alternating one piece at a time."

Finley: "I made a new friend today. Doggy Egg. He's my new friend."

Finley, discussing how big the bed is: "Only two humans and one kid can fit in here." 

Jason: "Do you know the difference between a son and a daughter?"

Finley: "Yes, a sun is brighter than a daughter." 

Lucas, trying to define persecution: "It's when you get your head cut off." 

Finley: "I'm trying not to cry, but my belly really wants to." 

Finley: "I'm a team player, but everyone else are just players."

Finley: "Only 630 sides can fit in this bed. So all the people in the world can fit in this bed, except God."

Finley, finishing his pillow fort: "Wucas, look at my castle!"

Lucas: "Wow, it's so big. Let's knock it down!"

Finley: "No, I don't want you to knock it down."

Lucas: "But it would be fun! ...don't you need to relax? You just did all this work..."

Finley: "I did do a lot of work..."

Lucas: "Then just lay down here... And! Topple topple!" 

Jason: "How old do you think Mommy is?"

Finley: "Maybe ten?"

Jason: "Older than that."

Finley: "Thirty?"

Jason: "Oh that's really close. Try again."

Finley: "SIXTY?" 

Finley: "Is God bigger than a house?"

Lucas: "Yes, God is bigger than a house. God is bigger than a whale even."

Finley: "I knew that already."

Jason: "You big dummy."

Me: "You just called me a dummy. On Valentine's day!"

Jason: "No... Valentine's isn't until tomorrow."

Finley: "Mommy, did you know there are electrical socket eels?"

Me: "There are what?"

Finley: "There are regular eels and then there are electrical socket eels! Did you even know that?"

Finley: "Now that I put on my underwear, I will put my short sleeve pants on."

Finley: "My dessert is really hungry."

Finley: "Gigantic is number."

Lucas: "No, it's not."

Finley: "Yes, it is! Gigantic is a number."

Lucas: "Then what number comes after gigantic?"

Finley: "Gigantic and big."

Lucas: "Then what number comes before gigantic?"

Finley: "A billion."

Lucas: "No, Finley, a magic trick is doing something other people can't usually do. Like... here's a magic trick. Close your eyes, Finley. And don't open them until I tell you. Okay, open them. Look, Big Bear is gone!"

Finley: "Wow."

Lucas: "Okay, but now close your eyes. Don't peek. Okay, open them! Big Bear reappeared!"

Finley: "That's a pretty good magic trick. A magic trick is like hide-and-seek?"

Lucas: "Noo...not really. It's-."

Finley: "Let me do a magic trick! Close your eyes."

Lucas: "Okay..."

Finley: "Now open them!"

Lucas: "Oh! Chubby is GONE!"

Finley: "Now you have to find him!"

Lucas: "But I thought this was a magic trick. You have to make him come back now."

Finley: "No, it's hide-and-seek. You have to find him, Wucas." 

Finley: "Did you know that sometimes M says muh and sometimes M says am?"

Me: "Huh. Tell me what you mean by that."

Finley: "M usually says muh like... 'moo.' But if it comes after an I, then it says 'am,' like in 'I'm lost' but you read it 'I AM lost.' See?"

Finley: "There's a dead bug on the toilet seat."

Me: "Can you get a piece of toilet paper and pick it up and throw it out?"

Finley: "No! Ahhh! It's moving! Help!"

Lucas, after telling us someone from Italy holds the world record for most kids (69): "I don't know why Italy holds so many world records."

Me: "I don't know. What other world records do they hold?"

Lucas: "The man who balanced the most ice cream scoops, 71."

Jason: "I bet you read that on the world record page of your facts book, huh?"

Lucas: "No. That was on the ice cream page."

Jason: "We'll have to teach him how to drive..."

Finley: "You just have to turn the wheel!"

Lucas: "I'm going to wear a blue shirt with my blue shorts, and I even have on blue underwear!"

Finley: "So, you're just a blue blob?"

Jason: "I'm pretty sure you will feel a lot better once you're not in a dark bathroom."

Lucas: "My robot is going to have SO many sharp teeth."

Me: "Sharp or shark?"

Lucas: "Those are the same."

Me: "No, sharP or sharK?"

Lucas, leaving the room: "P."

Jason: "All shark teeth are sharp teeth, but not all sharp teeth are shark teeth."

Lucas, running back into the room: "Actually, scientists have discovered that SOME shark teeth are NOT sharp. So."

Finley: "Oooh! My own set of THESE!"

Lucas: "What are they?"

Finley: "I don't know!"

Finley: "If you love Eli as much as you can, he will never burst. NEVER." 

Lucas: "Mommy, Mommy, I told you one thing about this morning but I forgot to tell you a very important thing."

Me: "What?"

Lucas: "We made up underwear songs!"

Finley, defining teamwork: "Building something hard with a bunch of friends."

Finley, starting to take the corner pieces off of his newly finished puzzle: "Do you want to take off the corners now?"

Me: "I don't, but it looks like you do."

Finley: "I was asking myself."

Finley, doing an Olympics gymnastics routine

Me: "Wow, you landed well."

Finley: "Yes, I did. I landed straightly on my butt." 

Lucas: "This Lego man is prepared for anything."

Finley: "Is he prepared for dragons and monsters and snakes surrounding him with pokey things and tails sticking out of their heads? That's the most scariest I could think of."

Lucas: "Yes."

Finley: "But is he prepared for the most pokiest, leafiest, bee-surround-iest tree?"

Lucas: "Yes."

Lucas, when he's supposed to be sleeping: "Daddy? Daddy! I have a question for you to answer."

Jason: "What?"

Lucas: "What exactly are hiccups and where do they come from?"

Jason: "...let's save that for when it's not nighttime." 

every baby deserves an update

With each new pregnancy, the poor not-yet-born baby gets fewer and fewer mentions on this blog. This post will not remedy that, but I feel like he deserves at least one post dedicated to him while he is still in utero. So here goes!

Due date: 4.30.21
Gender: Boy
How far along: 34 weeks and 6 days
How far out: Exactly 100% of the time, my belly reaches places before the rest of me does
Weight: The gooseberry has probably gained between 4 and 5 pounds by this point, while I am sitting at a not terrible 15 pound gain. 
Most annoying part: The nonstop need to pee. 
The best part: Feeling the little limbs poking out of my sides.

First trimester: I had some mild nausea at random times throughout the day for weeks 7-9. I did not care for most foods. I lived for the afternoon nap if the other three boys cooperated with their naps and quiet time hours. I dreamed SO MUCH, multiple dreams per night that I could easily recall the next day, which for the most part was so much fun. I made it through the first 13 weeks without gaining any weight and, more notably, without stressing obsessively about whether the baby was actually still moving around in there. A much more peaceful first trimester in all the ways.

Second trimester: Nausea was long gone, but foods just were not that appetizing. I could eat anything - I just didn't care for anything in particular. It's not a terrible problem to have as it definitely allowed me to snack less than I normally would have, but it's still an odd thing to think about a food you know you would usually eat and eat and eat and be, "Meh, I could take it or leave it." We, of course, had the anatomy scan during this trimester and discovered the not-at-all-surprising news that the gooseberry was baby boy #4. We received the also not-at-all-surprising news that he was another potato baby [as we endearingly call them] with shorter than average limbs. At the start of the year, I determined to walk/exercise as often as possible. Jason's easier semester gave him more free evenings and he was able to keep me motivated to hop on the treadmill for a 1.5 mile jaunt 4-5 times a week. I think this has definitely kept me much more energized this time around weirdly enough [but not all that weird, I know]. Also, as long as I got to bed by 10:30, I would feel great the next day. If I happened to stay awake until 11 pm, I was pretty useless the next day, mood and energy wise. Despite having a slow recovery of appetite in this trimester, I still finished out the second round of 13 weeks with 11 pounds gained. Oof.

Third trimester: Eat.All.theTHINGS. This is always where it gets tricky. Now I want all the foods and I can actually hold more food with the baby slowly making his way out of my ribs, but I don't want to weigh 150 pounds. Such a conundrum. But we've made it to the end game! Only five more weeks to go. Only FIVE MORE. I have felt great. I have the classic "I need to pee" waddle pretty much 24/7 because of the 24/7 need to pee. I am currently in an I Want an Afternoon Nap phase, but I'm pretty sure that's because of how late I've been staying up while Jason was Spring Break-ing. While I can no longer comfortably have people climbing all over me or sitting in my lap to read books, I can still heft my soon-to-be-dethroned-from-resident-baby-of-the-house-status Sebastian up and down within reason and I don't feel at all old and decrepit and huffy puffy while going for walks. I am experiencing the annoyance of having to stand farther away from the sink and having to do this awkward hunched over reach while washing dishes, but all in all, not too shabby for almost 35 weeks along. ONLY FIVE MORE TO GO. 

Now that I am very, very, very obviously pregnant [like, there is no way anyone would possibly feel uncomfortable or anxious about assuming that I am 100% a pregnant Asian - there are not enough tacos in the world to make this a questionable assumption about my stomach], I find it entertaining fielding people's reactions when the boys and I are out on a walk around the neighborhood [walks that inevitably consist of three false starts down the street, only to have to head home to pee again and again before actually getting to go on the walk...]. Lucas and Finley ride ahead on their bikes and I follow behind with Sebastian in the stroller, and my Walmart-sized watermelon belly proudly sways from side to side as if to say, "Look at me! Look at me!" And look the good people do. And comment and question. Yes, number four! Yes, another boy! Yes, probably more in the future! I enjoy it though, because it is a human interaction/conversation that I am comfortable with: one that comes with predictable questions that I already have the answers queued up for and have rehearsed in my head a dozen times [these are normal parameters for normal people's conversations, right?]. I end up feeling like I'm sociable without devolving [usually] into mumbles and awkwardness and nonsensical responses that make zero sense [my baseline norm for human interactions]. Apparently at 35 weeks along, THIS IS MY GOLDEN MOMENT. Also, ONLY FIVE MORE WEEKS.

Today's appointment at the birth center was uneventful, which is what I prefer. The gooseberry was head down, measuring on schedule, and bopping the Doppler monitor thumpity thump the whole time we were listening to his clippity clop heartbeat. We have the GBS test at our next appointment in two weeks and then we hit the weekly visits until this fella makes his glorious debut. Everything is picking up and I love it. Labor and delivery is honestly one of my favorite parts about pregnancy so I await it with much anticipation. It's work, work, work for some number of hours and then boom, instant gratification baby. Such a high. 

a 35-week along potato mama

So, there you have it. Boyo #4 pregnancy so far in a nutshell. It may sound cliche, but God always seems to give me exactly what I need, and this 100% applies to my pregnancy. I needed good energy and a good emotional state so I could still be a decent mom to my other three rapscallions while I grew this fourth rapscallion, and I have had that to a point I would never have expected. If I did hashtags, this would be the time for #tooblessedtobestressed, or maybe #Godisgoodallthetime, or maybe #Icanfitmoretacosnow. I may sound overly optimistic or like I'm sugar-coating things, but truly, this is life right now. And it's indescribably excellent 👍

Dear tiny baby in my belly, 

I await your arrival with much anticipation. Please be kind, cooperative, and punctual on your way out. You will be smothered with the love and the toys of your three big brothers as soon as they see you. You are cherished beyond reason. I can't wait to squish you.

♥️♥️♥️

Your mama

a 24-week along potato baby

questionable decisions

Act I:

Finley has the stuffed llama. Lucas is obsessed with the stuffed llama. Finley does not want to give him the llama. Lucas offers him a stuffed polar bear. Finley does not want the polar bear. Lucas offers him the polar bear again and sweetens the deal: "Here, Finley, you can have the bear instead and then you will be king over me FOREVER." 

Finley accepts the deal. 

Lucas runs out of the room with the llama and comes back with another bear, declaring: "...and now this bear makes me the king over YOU forever!"

Act 2:

Finley holds up a pillow and a giant squishmallow owl: "I have a sword and a spear! Wucas, you are David and I AM GOLIATH. Now who will win?!"

two is better than one

I find this to be such a weird thing to say and experience: Schooling two kids is better than just schooling one.

I don't know why this is. But I love it [and I'm quite relieved to find it to be this way so far since, well, my plans on homeschooling a passel of tiny people has always been a lifelong dream]. 

Adding a half hour of structured schooling for Finley to our day, interspersed between Lucas's subjects, has made our days pass so smoothly. Finley loves to be included and have his special school time. Lucas always knows what to expect and looks forward to passing his warmed chair to Finley while he takes a Lego break. I don't know how it will be when Boy 3 and 4 join the mix, but the two boy schedule has been beautiful. 

Lucas is flying through his second grade work. He is working on fraction/decimal conversions and can easily work through long division problems. His reading/writing/spelling continue to be grades beyond his age. He considers any kind of logic puzzle to be a fun reward. He loves fact books and will often greet me each day with a "Mommy, did you know..." [which, 4 times out of 5, I do not]. Two of his latest revelations? Houseflies only buzz in the key of F and when anglerfish mate the male attaches himself to the female until he starts losing his eyes and organs [feel free to look it up for more exact details]. You're welcome. 

Finley loves being able to read now. He will often sit in the bathroom reading over his word charts or I will catch him picking out words on things around the house. He still gets lowercase B's and D's mixed up at times, which makes for some funny sentences, but he'll get there. He's starting to read more smoothly and he no longer wants me to point at each word, taking a swipe at my hand any time I try to point at a word to show him his place. So ungrateful. The giggles he gets when he reads a funny story is everything. He loves to talk about what he just read, in such a serious manner, and it's adorable. I love his opinions and take on things. He gets a big kick out of our writing lessons each day, and he loves when we choose which letter he executed the best that day. He is working on adding and subtracting up to 5 and the way he checks his math on his sweaty little chunks of fingers is so cute.  

This particular phase right now is pretty excellent. I have all the good feelings and zero complaints. I love these kiddos and am so glad I get to be their teacher on the daily. 

It's an incredible feeling to realize you're living out your life just the way you imagined it years upon years ago. ❤

[Did you notice how I'm pretending to ignore the fact that I haven't blogged in 85 years? 😬 Sometimes you've got to skip the excuses and just jump right in...]