Quick Takes rev 8

What's this, you ask? It's a long overdue blog post for which y'all have been clicking refresh on your readers over the last 4 months. And to make sure I don't go impressing anyone with originality or depth , I've put together a list of moments and thought bubbles from this past week that only I will find funny and am linking it up with one of the prettiest redheads I know, know of, cyber-stalk. That came out a smidgen creepier than I intended. Moving on...

~1~

Overheard on the elevator at work (names changed to protect the clueless):

Dilbert: "Yea so I always seem to fail in the Christmas gift department with my wife so this year, I decided to think completely out of the box."
Sherman: "What did you get her?"
Dilbert: "A welder."
Sherman: *silence*
Dilbert: "Well she's always bringing home these random things made of metal to decorate the house with so I figured this way, she can just make her own. She's really creative like that."

Um. Good luck with that Richard Suave.

~2~

Wednesday was a proud day in the history of my motherland. The first woman president was elected into office! Now, as with all things related to politics, there are folks who celebrate and folks who prefer the taste of hater-ade. Not everyone reacted with such enthusiasm like the hair flag lady. Putting all the partisan/platform issues aside, I'm still marveling at the fact that a country where open-mouthed kissing just barely made its way onto network television within the last decade or so elected a woman into power. I'm not equating risque TV to gender equality. I'm simply pointing out how conservative Korean society has remained even well into the 21st century. It's quite miraculous that South Korea has trailblazed past 'Muricka in female political leadership. Deh-han-ming-guk! Hwy-ting! (I clearly need to download Korean characters because that just looks ridiculous.)

~3~

After years of desparately clutching to pre-written instructions, I've made some progress in the be-adventurous-when-cooking department and whipped up these turkey balls on the fly for dinner with not a Food Network recipe in sight! They came out browned, flavorful, and moist which is the trifecta of meatball cooking (according to Food Network). I threw them in some marinara then poured it over spaghetti squash and proceded to eat 3 servings. It's ok because the 'noodles' are actually veggies and turkey meat has no calories. The bread in the meatballs don't count as carbs because you can't see them.

~4~

Top: Stage 1
Bottom: Stage 2

These pictures show the tragic aftermath of Hurricane Post-Partum Hair Loss. A year has passed and hope has finally been restored. A world free of brillo-pad hairline is a reality, at least until the next post partum diaster. I have until next Thursday to decide if I want to better camoflauge the quasi-bangs with a more blunt variety.

~5~

It's the end of the Jorts era. As I was loading up bags of clothes/toys destined for St. Vincent de Paul, I noticed Matt had made a few contributions. Surprised,  (since he's a clothes hoarder and would still have pants with leather pockets hanging in the closet if it wasn't (weren't?) for my obsessive auditing/purging of clothes), I took a closer look to make sure I wasn't mistaking a laundry pile as a donation pile. That's when I saw an all too familiar set of shorts with 'Sean John' embroidered on the side. I shed a tear and poured out a little coffee to show some respect.

~6~

H followed me into the water closet (yes, I could've just said 'bathroom' but I like to use overly-specific names for everyday things) to provide a soundtrack of "Gangnam Style" for me to go #1 to. He was in the middle of his rendition of the chorus when he made a revelation in human anatomy: 

"Heeeeeeeeey, it's a ladle. Oh-oh-oh-oh, oppa...Mommy, where does your pee come out of? Your butt?"

~7~

You may have to worry about keeping up with the Jones' but for me, it's the Griswold's. When it comes to Christmas lights, these neighbors don't play around. Let me break it down: on the right is a life-sized gingerbread house with a life-sized Santa mannequin inside looking out at you. What nightmares are made of, I tell you. On the roof is a giant manger scene complete with every farm animal known to man. (Although they clearly didn't get the memo that you're not supposed to put baby Jesus out until after Christmas. Don't mind me, I'm just being a Christmas decoration etiquette nazi.) To top it off, the tree of lights on the left is set to blink in sync with Christmas music blaring through speakers, also on their roof, for all of Sun Groves to jam to.

On that note, I hope everyone has a vurry murry Chrimp-mus. Until next time. I'll try to keep it less than 4 months but I'm making no promises.

Love Story

Linking up to this super mom (She's a SAHM by day, RN by night. When does she sleep, you ask? I don't know either.) for some VD fun. Can't wait to see if folks find my blog through THAT search phrase.

1. How long have you and your significant other been together?

We met 5.5 years ago, got engaged 4 years ago and got hitched 3 years ago.

2. How did you meet? {What's your "love" story?}

You can read about it in this post. Be warned, our love story pretty much rivals that of The Notebook.

Our first anni

3. If married, how long have you been married?

Oops, guess I jumped the gun on question numero uno.

4. If you are married, where did you get married at? Big or small wedding?

We had a big fat Korean wedding at our parish, St. Mary's. Seriously though, the yellow to white ratio was something like 3:1. More fat and Korean than big because we only had ~50 guests.

5. Do you have any nick-names that you call one another?

Boo, Booba, Boobakins



San Diego 2007
Please excuse my side-boob



6. Name 3 things you love most about your honey.

He's the eternal optimist, he's one of the best daddies I have ever seen and he gives a mean calf rub. When you have monster asian calves like I do, that last one is GOLD.

First Family Vaca

7. Tell us how he proposed?

During V-day dinner back in 2008, our desert came out with a ring pop in it. He had no idea what kind of ring I wanted to he played it safe with the edible kind. Note: I don't have truck driver wrists despite what you see in the picture below. Must've been a weird angle. Swear.

8. Is he a flowers and teddy bear kind of guy for v-day, or strawberries, champagne, and rose petals?

He's a Godiva and lillies kind of guy but will eat the Godiva before I get a chance to.

Our Save the Date

9. Are you a sunset dinner on the beach kind of girl, or pop a movie in and relax on the couch?

I would love the former but with 2 kids, the latter is more realistic.

10. Tell us one thing you'd like to do with your significant one day. If you could do anything? Go anywhere?

Travel the country and hit up all the Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives joints. We're huge foodies if you can't tell by my blog.

Obligatory honeymoon smooching pic

11. Tell us what you plan on doing on this Valentine's Day.

Have dinner at the restaurant where he proposed. It's sort of a tradition because we've been doing it every VD.

12. Are you asking for anything this Valentine's day?

I'm a sucker for jewelry. And none of that Macy's crap either. I'm worth it.

Maternity shoot while preggo with Sweet P

13. Give us one piece of advice of keeping a relationship strong and full of love.

One of the most impactful things I learned during marriage prep was that true love is doing whatever it takes to get your spouse to heaven.

Marinate on that.

14.  Show us a picture of what love means to you.

Incredibly Perceptive

While waiting to be called back for my 23-week checkup, Jorts went to grab us some coffee & donuts. I was enjoying an episode of Saved By The Bell that was playing in the waiting room (I didn't even know these still aired!), when I got a text:

Jorts: Do you want an apple fritter or something chocolate?
Me: CHOCOLATE!
Jorts: Of course, I should've known. You love you some chocolate...except when it comes to men you're all about the vanilla.

What's In a Name?

A recent convo between Jorts and I while discussing possible baby names:

Me: How about Bosco?
Jorts: What? BOSCO?
Me: Yea, as in Saint John Bosco. I heard from a very reliable source that naming your child after a saint's hometown is the hottest thing.
Jorts: Why not Moonshine? Or Dandelion? Or Costco? Yea Coscto, that's WAY more fitting for our child.
Me: Aren't I supposed to have free reign over naming this kid anyway?
Jorts: Yes but not if it's the worst name ever.
Me: Ok, I get it. Bosco has been crossed off the list.

Back to scouring the web for potential baby names for me...

Holey Moley

If I didn't throw away his boxers, wife beaters (I guess the PC term would be undershirts but when have I been PC), etc with holes in them, Jorts would wear them until they turned to dust. Apparently he has no problem whatsoever allowing his butt cheeks to freely hang out or t-shirts that look like his armpit took a bite out of it.

Anywho, I always find these tattered unmentionables while folding laundry. I then reason with myself that throwing them away right after being washed would be a waste of the water, soap, energy, etc it took to launder it so I should let him wear it one last time and then throw it away. I guess having a mom who grew up during war times (she washes and reuses Ziploc bags for heavens sake) has affected me whether I like it or not. The problem is that when I'm putting dirty laundry in the washer, I just shove everything in. I hardly take the time to check pockets much less sift through dirty underwear to check for holes. So I end up forgetting about the raggedy drawers until I'm back to folding laundry. Then the vivious cycle happens all over again.

Conclusion: I think I just need to suck it up and throw them away as I find them. Not having to see his nipple peek out at me through his undershirt is worth whatever pennies it cost to wash it.

And then I met Jorts...

Due to the overwhelming demand for the story of how I met my husband, I was given no choice but to give my audience what she wants. So a here here goes...

I walked into a smoky bar one night with no intention of falling in love but couldn't help but notice the tall blond and handsome stranger just a few feet away from me. We locked eyes over the dimly lit room...one thing led to aother...and before I knew it we were married and had a baby. The end.

Kidding. Kind of.

My friend Terry & I spent the greater part of our weekends during the summer of '06 going out on the town to live it up and shake what our mamas gave us. One August night we decided to go to Old Town Scottsdale and pick the place with the shortest line. Suede was the winner. When we walked into the club, Matt really was the first thing I saw. Not b/c it was love at first sight but because he and his friends were at least a head taller than everyone else. I approached the bar to order my usual Kettle One & soda and that's when he went in for the kill. He leaned in and whispered something ridiculously corny before asking if he could buy me a drink. I have tried everything short of hypnosis to try and remember what he had said exactly but that detail seems to be lost forever. I do remember thinking, 'Wow, guys really use that line?' Despite his failed attempt to be Prince Charming, he had pretty eyes & a really nice smile so I let the 1st strike go. One of his friends apparently had a case of the yellow fever too and hit it off with my girlfriend so we made plans to double date the following night.

When Terry & I got to Macaroni Grill we were running a little late (as usual) so the boys were already seated. As we walked up to the table I was relieved to see that I didn't have beer goggles on the night before and he was just as handsome as I had remembered....until he stood up to greet me. He had on jorts aka jean-shorts, almost identical to these:

I've seen plenty of denim shorts growing up...in SOUTH CAROLINA...in the LATE NINETIES. I thought this choice of clothing went out of style along with the fanny pack by Y2K but clearly I was misaken. To get a better understanding of my sentiments involving jorts, please see the 1st definition from Urban Dictionary, especially the last sentence. Matt had a lot of black friends from his days playing high school & college basketball so maybe he thought that gave him a 'ghetto pass' to rock these Sean Jeans?? Despite the urge to burst into laughter and run away, I sat down and gave this tall white boy another chance (but still kept a mental tally, strike 2). By the time our appetizer arrived, I had already forgotten about the jorts. He was sweet and made me laugh.

We met up for a couple more group functions (bowling, BBQ, etc) until our first "alone" date. Casual dinner, nothing fancy, but it was going to be just the 2 of us. Matt came to pick me up and when I answered the door...there he was...in a nice polo that brought out his eyes...white shoes...and jorts. When we got to the restaurant, he excused himself to go wash his hands and that's when I grabbed my cell phone to text Terry:

He's wearing JORTS again. :( :( :( Oh well, he's still cute.

As Matt walked back to our table, he looked a little...bothered. So I asked him if everything was ok and that's when he pulled out his phone and said, "What's THIS supposed to mean?"

To my horror, I see the text that I had just sent. The text that was supposed to have gone to Terry.

ABSOLUTE MORTIFICATION.

I was speechless. There was no way I was going to recover smoothly from this so I just told the truth. Amazingly enough, he thought it was funny. And we shared a good laugh about it. He said that he would do whatever it took to convert me to Team Jorts and made me admit he still looked good in them.

We spent the next year laughing, eating & traveling.

Poor Jerry never saw it coming.

 

Up close & personal w/ Beyonce

Joe's Crab Shack in San Diego

Then after our 2nd Valentine's dinner together, a cheesecake came out for dessert in the shape of a heart...with a Ring Pop in it. I don't even remember what was said during his proposal b/c I started bawling as soon as he got down on one knee. My blubbering answer must've been incoherent b/c a guy from the other side of the restaurant yelled, "What did she say??" after he popped the question.

On March 13, 2009, he finally made an honest woman out of me. (Warning: picture overload)




Getting "served" on the dance floor by my uncle.

  


Y'all, how cute are they???



And now here we are after celebrating 5 Valentine's Days, 4 "meeting anniversaries", 3 "engagement anniversaries", almost 2 wedding anniversaries, and a baby later.



Boos for life



Morning Memo

For as long as I can remember, I've been getting daily morning texts from my baby's daddy. They're usually a quick, "I love you (fill in the blank with a term of endearment)" but today's had a P.S. that made me smile:

"Put on my eye cream."

Choose Your Battles

seems to be the most ubiquitous piece of marriage advice given to newlyweds. Though it is a daily struggle for me to live by this philosophy (I'm high maintenence...or so I've been told), I think I'm getting better at it.

Something I got my baby daddy as a stocking stuffer for Christmas recieved some criticism.

Some folks (mostly females) thought it was a great way to get the hubs on a beauty routine that even men need as they age but others (mostly males) thought it was an equivalent to my husband getting me a kitchen appliance or vacuum cleaner as a gift. In my defense, it was just a stocking stuffer and not a major gift. To my surprise, the little bottle was not met with the scowl that I was expecting but rather a "I'll give it a try" response from the man who still uses Clearasil. Victory for me.

The funniest moments of my day are usually when I overhear daddy/baby banter over the moniter (See this little gem). Today I got to listen to "Head, fingers, knees & toes" sung to the melody of The Adams Family theme song while I made coffee. My husbands renditions of some of the most popular children's songs makes me wonder...who sang to him as a child???

I think I just farted



In our hanboks.

H was clearly loving it.

Again with the excitement.

Those are tears of pure joy.

Straight out of a korean history book.

Prince of his throne.

He picked the ball, naturally.



Cake - before.

Cake - after.

So now onto the story behind this post's title. Party had ended & everyone had gone home. Matt's assignment was to clean up while I gave H a bath. It felt a little chilly for H to be nakey so I asked my boo to bring me the space heater (the one I've had since college at the Stanford estate). As I was lathering up my little nude birthday boy I couldn't help but notice the foulest smell wafting around my nostrils.

Me: What is that smell?

Matt: What smell?

Me: You don't smell that? It smells like rotten eggs. Maybe there was some hair stuck in the heater? Ugh, burnt hair shouldn't smell like that.

Matt: Oh. I think I farted?

Me: You think?

Matt: I didn't feel anything come out but I'm pretty sure I did.

I know how to pick 'em.

Germaphobe Dad

Matt volunteered to change H's heavy-looking diaper so that I could enjoy my pepperoni & jalepeno pizza for lunch without a baby clawing at my legs trying to score a bite. Moments later, this is what I hear through the baby monitor:

"Bubba NO!"

*rustling*

"THIS is why I don't let him touch his balls b/c he gets poo all over himself!"

*more rustling*

"NO BUBBA!"

*grumbling that I can't make out*

"Boo get in here! This is how he gets poop diseases!"

When I walked into the nursery, Matt was holding H's little arms together as if he was being taken into custody with one hand while fanatically wiping H's bottom with a wipe in his other. I made every attempt to show him I was taking this moment as seriously as he was but...I clearly failed when he saw the tears from laughter falling down my face.

Matt - "H doesn't like it when you're laughing at him like that."

Me - "I'm not laughing at him. I'm laughing at you. Hew probably doesn't like it when you're yelling at him about poo either."

2 applications of hand sanitizer & 3 hand washes with antibacterial soap later (all on Hew) Matt was back to being Goofy Dad, much to my relief & H's delight. I'm enough of a germaphobe for the 3 of us.