The Things We Do for Soon Doo Boo

So the kids are finally asleep (it's 1am NJ time, but 8PM Hawaii Time but hey I'll take it) so I get some alone time to chronicle my gluttonous antics for the past week. 

I would say if there was one dish I could not /would not ever leave NJ without having, it is soon doo boo (spicy tofu soup). So I know you can get soon doo boo in other places but no place does it right like So Gong Dong by my parents house in Palisades Park NJ. The brand is a landmark around here and it's quite famous. It was featured on Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations etc.

In Hawaii they have soon doo boo as well and places that are called So Gong Dong but the taste is not the same. Don't get me wrong, Hawaii is good with food, I've learned when it comes to certain foods (ie sushi, ramen, Japanese, Udon, Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese.. SPAM, shrimp and many more noms) Hawaii is a food Mecca. But I can't explain it, every time I have soon doo boo anywhere else but So Gong Dong it just doesn't taste right. It's something, like many things, I took for granted when I lived down the street from the stuff. But now that I live a continent and an ocean away, many days go by when I yearn for the hot-scorching-spicy-msg-infested-tongue-tickling-taste of So Gong Dong soon doo boo. When the stuff hits my palate it transports me back to my High School days when I'd venture to Bergen County to have the stuff, when I was so carefree and life was just over the horizon. It evokes memories of my single days after I had graduated college and I was trying to make my way in the world and we had just moved to Palisades Park where the soft tofu was a comfort on love lorn days, always a great compliment with a good time with good friends. It's food that reminds me of the person I was before I became a mother and a wife. Food that reminds me to be grateful for the many steps and people and instances it took to make me who I am.

Well the other day, after a major snow storm, the snow piled high around our house, and our neighborhood. The cold was getting to us. My husband, who loves the stuff too, and I decided we HAD to have some. We had my parents watch the kids and made the trek through the snow, in freezing cold weather, to have a taste of the good stuff. 

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That is a picture I snapped from my window. Notice there is not much of a sidewalk? Yep we cray.

Well I'll just stop typing and let the pictures do the rest.

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This is after it cooled down a bit it came out sizzling! Another thing I loooove about Song Gong Dong is the fact that they give their rice in Dol Sot (stone pot) bowls!

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I look like a kid in a candy store~! When it comes out you crack a raw egg inside and wait till it cooks abit. How long do I wait? Till my egg is cooked and the yolk is slighty runny.

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It's chow time!

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You definitely need some sweet LA Kalbi to offset the spicy salty pot of heat!

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So after you're done you wash all the flavorful stuff you had (salty/spicy/sweet) with nurumjee (the slightly burnt leftover rice from the stone pot, with water poured over it). The rich smooth subtle taste of the burnt slightly crispy rice makes it all go down. 

We were sooo cold when we got there but sooo warm leaving. We trekked in the snow back to my parent's house. I think I was still high on the msg and I slipped on some ice, fell flat on my back walking back. Ouch!  My tail bone! My husband helped me up, I got to my senses, dusted off the snow and smiled all the way back home in the freezing cold, trudging through the tundra.

Was so worth it.

The things we doo for soon doo boo =)

A Mother's Love

Happy Valentines Day! We are here in NJ and its cold and snowing a lot! Lucky we have more than enough love from family and friends to keep us warm on the inside=) It being Love Day and all, I've been thinking a lot about a mother's love, especially since I've been getting a good dose of it from my own daechoong mama. 

Coming off a 10 hour plane ride with a screaming crying one year old and a cranky 3 year old is a soul draining experience that I will elaborate on in another post. I came home after staying up all night completely and utterly distressed, tired, and my psyche shattered in a million pieces. My mother watched the kids, let me sleep in on their bed with their electric blanket (those are awesome), and slowly I felt the warmth melt away weariness. The last few days we were stuck at home with a nor'easter snow storm and watched the inches pile up. We stayed in with home cooked meals, my mother willing to carry my burdens to give me some rest. Don't get me wrong I love being a mother but after many months without a break and after a really long stressful month long stretch, it's really nice to be cared for. I feel a sense of peaceful contentment I haven't felt in awhile. 

That's a mother's love. At your very worst,  your weariest, your most inconsiderate, sloppy and indecent, and shameless, moments your mother still loves and accepts you, she takes you just as you are. Not with out expectations of course, but you can show her your ugly side, your personality flaws, the hard-to-look-at aspects of who you are and you can just be that in front of her. Its the constant forgiveness, and "giving in" that is as integral and indispensable to motherhood, as the warmth of the sun is to the earth.  

Growing up receiving this love had its drawbacks in a way. I grew up to think the world was kinder than it was ruthless, that it was caring more than it was harsh. It gave me an inaccurate picture of the world and led me to believe that others would be just as forgiving and indulgent as my mother was towards me. Growing up is a slow discovery in the rude awakening of what the world is really like. It's that same love that wants to show my kids in their prime of their innocence, that people and the world are kind loving and patient.

In the same way, time and time again, when my kids drive me crazy, when I feel like I'm pushed to the brink of no return, when I feel my sanity hanging on my thread, I realize I can always give a bit more, that unlike the way things are with everything else in life, for my kids I can keep giving. Why? Because that is what my mother did for me. The never ending flame of our love for are kids is fueled and guided by the love we first received. This snowy day, as I'm typing this, my body is chilly but my heart is warm. This snowy Valentines Day I'm very grateful for the love I've received and the abundant love I have and can continue to give to my little ones. Happy Valentines Day!

Some pics of our trip so far. One of the great things now about going home to NJ is seeing our little ones reunited with their cousins. The pictures below are of Joey and Kaitlyn with my brother's kids. You can see the cousin love! Can't wait take pics with their other cousins soon too!

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Speaking of my daughter driving me crazy... this is what she was doing all night... make a mess at my mom's house.

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Do you see the time?? Thats 2:30 AM!!

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Is It Worth It?

So I've been MIA lately because our household is under the spell of disease. My daughter somehow contracted Hand Foot Mouth Disease and she has been utterly miserable and I have been miserable with her. I've seen my fair share of illnesses. I have a 3 year old boy that goes to preschool. I thought I saw it all, high fevers, viruses, bronchitis, colds, flu etc. but nothing prepared me for Coxsackie ( a form of HFM). My poor daughter's mouth has broken out into canker sores. Her gums are completely inflamed and bleeding, so she can hardly eat or drink anything. This past week she has been subsisting on ice cream. So choosing between diabetes and rotten teeth or starvation and dehydration I chose the lesser evil. My normally fun loving, light hearted daughter, that eats anything and sleeps well, has been replaced with a cantankerous, grouchy, girl who throws and screams at any food I try to give her.  She is usually pretty independent and plays well by herself but now she demands to be held 24/7. So its been a tough week.

 

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I almost feel like I'm going through postpartum where I am teetering between two realities, one where I tell myself that its all a phase, its a part of life and to take it in stride, and the other, where I let the sleeplessness, anxiety and stress get the best of me. Sometimes I wonder in these one- crying- toddler- meltdown- away- from- collapsing "is it worth it?" I get into these moments where I think fondly of my pre-children days. Those days where I felt like a woman and not like a human wet-rag.

I reminisce and I remember when all I had to do was take care of myself, where I had the time and the means to look and dress well, when there were actually times when I liked what I saw in the mirror. That's another thing, the mirror used to be my friend. It made sure I didn't have food in my teeth, told me to add some more powder to my nose,  occasionally told me how nice I looked in my new dress. Now the mirror glowers at me, showing me how dark the bags are under my eyes, how far my gut is sticks out pass my chest, how uneven my skin tone is becoming. It's as if in giving birth and breathing new life into my babies, youth and beauty left in the same breath.

I reminisce and remember going out and having fun with others, something called a "social life" which has become such a foreign concept it might as well be the moon for now. I've barely left the house the past couple weeks. I think how hard it is raising kids without family to help. It's something I don't notice until illness plagues my household. I see other people with kids, able to go out and have fun, because their parents can watch their kids for a night. I never seemed to get a break and I feel like I'm drowning to get air.

So this is how I have been feeling. I feel ashamed to even be asking myself this. How could I not love and appreciate the amazing gift of motherhood every moment of every day? If I were to go back in time would I do things differently? Would I trade it all for independence, freedom, youth, fun.... Is it worth it?

As these thoughts started filling my heart and mind, last night I took a walk outside. I've been confined indoors in fear that I am somehow carrying the virus my daughter has.  The sky was so bright and the full moon shined like an elegant light fixture in the sky.  The clouds seemed to radiate the light of the moon and as I gazed above, looking at how bright it all was, I realized you never appreciate how beautiful and bright a moon could be unless you accustomed to seeing darkness. It reminded me of the little moments as a mother that make me forget the hardship: lost beauty, lost youth, a social life forever gone, sleeplessness, etc... moments when my daughter hugs me and leans her head on my shoulders, where I know I am her only comfort but at the same time she is holding me up as much as I am holding her. Or like last night when she sensed my stress and tried giving my kisses on the cheek despite the fact it hurts to move her mouth. In every hardship as a mother like labor, post partum, the pain of nursing, the terrible twos and even more terrible threes, and sickness, when you feel the darkness about to envelope you, those moments, like the radiant shine of a full moon, get you through. Would we ever be able to survive motherhood without them? Moments that help you remember the joy of it all, moments that make it all worth it.

5 Reasons Why I Am Glad Christmas is Over...

1) The first one I'll express in poem:

We had a rule in our house to celebrate a merry way

"No opening presents until Christmas Day!"

For I wanted the morning to be an experience to remember

But Alas the first gifts came on the 10th of December

making my poor boy complain and resent

Asking every 10 minutes "Can I open the present!?"

Next year all will appear suddenly on Christmas Day

To save my sanity and keep my innner Grinch at bay...

___

2) The Mall

Having a 3 year old and a 1 and 1/2 year old and going to the mall during Christmas time is a soul draining experience. With my son running around weaving in and out of mall traffic, causing kids, the elderly, and the faint-hearted to trip over. My daughter got a kick out of grabbing things from every store we entered and making a run for it, like she was re-enacting a scene from Oliver Twist.

3) Glitter

I know I'm starting to start like the Grinch for real but as a mother, I HATE GLITTER. The stuff never leaves the house once entered, it's like the holiday bed bugs. If someone gives you a bag or a ribbon filled with glitter months will pass where glitter will randomly show up on your sons face or on a banana, a blanket, a towel and you constantly think "I THOUGHT I GOT ALL OF IT!!"

4) Ornament Control

My daughter the 1 and 1/2 year old loves grabbing the ornaments off the tree. Some of them were shatter proof and some of them were not. We were playing 24/7 ornament control in our house, I felt a tinge of anxiety every time my daughter so much as looked at our tree.

5) Opening Children's Toys

Long gone are the days of opening the box and taking out the present. As a kid I don't remember every extremity of my Rainbow Bright being attached to a box. Toys are now attached to the plastic or cardboard casing  by being bolted and/or wired, and don't forget those fun nylon cable wires strapped on for additional support. I don't understand why opening gifts now a days has to be a 12 step process. Did the packing department at Fisher Price merge with the CIA or something? I tried to open a plastic toy cash register. The actual register was screwed into its cardboard box. So to open the gift I had to get out my tool box and find the right bit on my battery screwdriver to open the gift. Then there was the whole unraveling all those wire ties. There is no simple easy way to do it aside from unraveling each wire, which drove my daechoong side crazy!

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On the flip side it was amazing experiencing Christmas again through the eyes of a child. When I was young waking up Christmas morning was a magical experience in some ways. I woke up with a sense of Joy that it was Jesus' birthday and I would be able to celebrate with my family. As i got older the day seemed to lose its magic every year. The day slowly became mundane and obligatory. I remember when I was in high school waking up Christmas morning and realizing that it felt like any other day.

My son is now almost four and I feel like its our first Christmas where he is fully aware of the holiday and he is certainly fully aware of presents and Santa and the whole holiday season whirlwind. This year to see him understand that meaning behind Christmas and watch the joy light up on his face when he opened his gifts made all of the annoying things I ranted above, absolutely worth it.

 

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Notice how there are no ornaments on the bottom of the tree?

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I think my daughter had more fun with the wrapping paper than the actual gifts...

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"There's no more wrapping paper?"

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Sleigh Bells Ring... Are You Listening?

Well Christmas is just around the corner. I've been itching to get back to blogging but all the Holiday craziness has drained my writing juices. That's not to say that its been an uneventful time.

This holiday season with all the stress and things to do we've had some crazy moments with our son. One thing we tell him over and over again is "LISTEN!" I think we say it to him 10-20 times a day.  We are always saying things like, "You need to listen Joey! What did we just tell you to do??" "Joey are you listening??" but how often do we are parents do the very things we are constantly berating our kids about?

Like the Time We Were At The Apple Store...

I don't know about you but every year around the holidays I end up making an appointment with the Genius Bar. I had both Joey and Kaitlyn. That day Joey was in preschool all day, with no nap and was having his usual meltdown. He was crying and screaming that his head hurt, was wanting me to hold him. His voice echoed throughout the the place, reverberating off every Macbook's aluminum unibody casing in the store. The skinny guy at the genius bar with scruffy hair and dark rimmed glasses (that looked he just graduated middle school) was trying to explain to me in caveman-like language  why my Macbook crashed. Joey was going so crazy I had to put him in the stroller (hes almost four) and  I held Kaitlyn. This caused Kaitlyn to want to crawl on top of the Genius Bar (hopefully no more bar crawling after that day *fingers crossed*) I tried to get her down which lead her to convulse in rage, screaming at the top of her lungs. So I had two screaming kids on my hands and the skinny genius guy and the whole store for that matter, was looking at my kids in compassion/horror a total "how did it come to this??" look, the way people look at kids in those World Vision commercials. The guy fixed the "problem" whatever it was and I was off running, strolling my overgrown baby (Joey) in the stroller, while carrying a screaming 18 month old.

I was down to survival mode. Food. My kids need food and water.

The whole time my son was screaming his usual "My head hurts, my stomach hurts! I want Angry Birds!! I want Ice Cream in the Apple Store!!" non nonsensical tantrum rants that I've come to tune-out and merely interpret as "TIRED!" or "HUNGRY!!"

Finally, I get to a cafe at the mall, I'm so relieved to see that it's nearly empty, partly because I hoped no one from the Apple Store would be there to watch ACT II of the drama unfold. We order our food and they place it in front of us. I know my son is hungry. I know that is the cause of his tantrum. But he refuses to eat. He just sits there and starts complaining and yelling about the food. He stands up and screams, "MY STOMACH HURRRRTS!!!!!!" I slam my hands down on the table. Look him square in the eye and just as I'm about to explode in rage...

He throws up.

All over the table everywhere! on the seats. It seemed like 3 liters of the stuff on the nice leathery booth we were sitting in. The waiter quickly comes over. They move us to the table over. They proceed to put yellow caution table around the area and they bring in a special cleaning crew to clean it up. Anywho my son is crying at this point. I feel terrible and Kaitlyn who is hungry and was all ready to eat until her brother vomited all over her hopes of a good meal. I was carrying two crying kids to the bathroom. While we washed up I was realizing that the very thing I tell my son to do all the time... I failed to

LISTEN.

He was trying to tell me I he was sick that he wasn't feeling well but often times when he tries to tell me something the only thing I could think about is how he is inconveniencing me and what I am trying to do. Sometimes throughout the day its all about just trying to get things done and trying to make life a little less crazy for myself, in the meantime I realize I rarely listen to what my son is trying to tell me.

After getting washed up, we came back to the cafe and they had food waiting for us. After he ate he was back to his normal happy self. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the mall and listening to Christmas carols and all the silly nonsensical but important things my 3 year old had to say.

 

Motherhood: Leaving No Talent Behind

I was talking with my friend the other day and she brought up a very interesting point on motherhood. She said we can use almost any talent God has blessed us with in being a mother. The more I thought about this the more I realized the validity in what she said. Talents that would otherwise be collecting dust in our craniums, never to see the light of day, are revived when you are a mother.

I'm turning 32 this week and as a young (or not so young anymore) mother with each passing birthday I reflect more deeply upon my past. I realize the days of my youth are coming to a close and I think fondly of those "What do I want to be when I grow up?" questions that were so pertinent to our childhood...

When I was young at one point I wanted to be a singer. I love to sing.   It's always something I've loved doing but, when I reached adulthood, life got busy, and singing became confined to the many things I used to do when I was young and carefree, but have no use for anymore...

Now I get to sing my kids to sleep at night. I sing my heart out in a vocal range just above a whisper. I see my daughter's eyes fill with sleepy joy. For the first time all day my son lays still for more than two seconds, entranced by my aria. I see him give a slight smile as he falls into a comfortable slumber. Will I ever be a singer? No, but I can sing my kids to sleep.

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I always loved to draw. When I was a kid, an artist is one of the many things I would tell people I wanted to be when I grew up. I remember when I was in 8th grade I was Artist of the Month one time! Well that love pretty much never saw the light of day after middle school. Drawing became trivial compared everything else that could be done and needed to get done.

Joey loves to draw and he loves it when I draw with him. He loves it when I draw our house to the back drop of the jagged dynamic mountains that he sees everyday outside our window. He always wants me to draw him with his family. To my dismay after I'm done drawing he insists on coloring it...

Joey (left), Joe (middle), Me (right) He decided to take over and draw the rest of my body...

Joey (left), Joe (middle), Me (right) He decided to take over and draw the rest of my body...

I so enjoy watching his expression as my pen strokes reveal caricatures of our family. He recognizes who I'm drawing and watches with such anticipation. Will I ever be an artist? Judging from the picture above, most certainly not, but I can draw with my kids...

As soon as i learned to write my first few words, I fell in love with writing. When I was in elementary school I was a prolific writer. I wrote poetry, short stories, and the occasional op ed piece. I remember telling people I wanted to be a writer and publish a book. I was assistant editor of our school newspaper my junior year in HS and in college I did the occasional Xanga thing. It was my outlet. Then I grew up and got busy. The wave of responsibilities, stress, and adulthood washed over this love of mine until it was nothing but a past-time....

Until I started this blog. Ironically I'm struggling to find the right words to express how deeply enjoyable and gratifying it has been to write on this medium. Being a mother has enabled me to awaken my former love. My thoughts about my kids and motherhood whirl around in my head all day and they come and go like a premonition, but when I choose to write them down, it is like giving the premonition a physical body. My thoughts suddenly have the ability to exist in permanence and are able to connect and relate with others. Will I ever be a writer and publish a book? No, probably not, but I can write about my children chronicling the crazy-joyful-tiring journey in being their mother.

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So many talents that wouldn't see the light of day if it weren't for the gift of motherhood. I'll never be a singer, writer, or an artist, but I can be all those things everyday and more for my kids and that is more than enough.

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Look Before You Leap

Being a parent causes you to be a lot more self reflective. We all have our flaws, vices, defense mechanisms, and idiosyncrasies about us that our friends and loved ones either love or hate and regardless endure. But when you become a parent you realize that those flaws don't just affect you and those around you, but they play a part in shaping the life of another human being. It's quite overwhelming when you think about it.

One of my many flaws is my inability to think before I act or speak. You might be thinking "What the heck kinda pastor's wife are you?" Well... when I'm counseling and listening to other people's problems, I am very careful of what I say and I take great pains in choosing my words carefully. So that's that... but when it comes to the daily grind and the endless to do lists.... I am the complete antithesis of looking before I leap or thinking before I speak.

Think (Speak+ GNC)

I remember one situation that totally illustrates this about me. My husband wanted to try this prework out mix called JACK3D (Jacked).

Was recalled so my husband never took it. Some shady things in here supposedly.

Was recalled so my husband never took it. Some shady things in here supposedly.

So went to the the GNC at the mall and there is no parking. He says he'll loop around the parking lot and drops me off. I rush in the store.

I see a guy stacking protein containers, he smiles and is about to greet me with the GNC shpeel and I cut him off cause I'm in a rush.

"Excuse me, I want to get JACK3D!" 

He gives me an awkward look and just looks at me.

"Sorry I'm in a rush I need to get JACK3D now and some vitamins."

I realize he might think it's strange that I'm buying it, so I explain. 

"Sorry, I mean my husband wants me to get JACK3D." 

He's flushed and just looks at me.

"Do I have something on my face?" I think to myself. "What is wrong with this guy? So awkward."

I say to him with a hint of annoyance "Can you tell me where I can find it?"

Then he realizes what I meant and lets out a relieved nervous laugh. "It's right over here"

At that moment I realized he thought I wanted to get JACKED as in really buff. I felt utterly embarrassed and I couldn't look the guy in the eye as he was finally giving his GNC schpeel about vitamins and JACK3D.

I told Joe what happened when we got home and he laughs but then says he was so happy he was not with me. He'd prob never be able to show his face again at the store.

Another time I remember after our small group we were all talking about Kareoke and my friend who is also Korean American was saying how we should definitely go Kareoke one day. I respond enthusiastically to my friends, "I loooove NRB!"

Immediately you can hear a pin drop and there's this awkward silence and my Korean American friend bursts out laughing hysterically. I realize she and I are the only Koreans in the room and the rest of them do not realize NRB stands for No Rae Bang (Kareoke Room) but they thought I meant ...another thing that NRB stands for. I quickly explain the acronym and you could hear the sigh of relief in the room.

So there you have it. I often don't think before I speak. I also rush into decisions without thinking through them. I jump before knowing what I'm crashing into. In the past that primarily only affect me, and lead me to make poor choices and I would brace myself for the consequences. Now as a mother, the consequences affect another life. My son.

Look (Leap +Preschool)

At the end of the summer there was some turn around with his preschool teachers and we had moved about 25 mins away from his preschool. So, distressed by the turn around and sick of driving through traffic, I swiftly looked for other options closer to home. I visited a preschool and saw their nice clean facilities and the teachers seemed nice and accommodating, so I enrolled him there and patted myself on the back for a job well done.

One thing I didn't take in account though was the depth of love he had for his friends at his old school. I just thought "He's 3 years old, he'll adjust and make new friends." Unfortunately that wasn't the case. He wasn't clicking with the friends at his school and he didn't like the teachers either. Funny thing was, this new preschool was is a widely known chain and was very orderly and institutionalized but that doesn't translate to love and care to a 3 year old. He missed the teachers at his old school and his close group of friends that were together since they were two. Everyday he started asking me about his friends. Where did they go? How come he couldn't see them? I explain that hes going to a new school and he could make new friends. That wasn't enough and he didn't want new friends he wanted the friends he had.

After a month of going to the new school I noticed subtle changes in his demeanor. He's normally nothing but a ball of boundless energy and joy, but you could tell a slight tinge of anxiety touched his normally happy disposition.

Then one day we had to stop by his old preschool because my husband had to meet someone there. I thought it would be a good idea to appease his yearning to see his old friends, so we went with him. As soon as his old classmates saw him squeals of excitement filled the preschool. They were practically mosh pitting him and all of them wanted to get their arms around him.

"Joey!! Joey!! We missed you!!" they exclaim earnestly.

His old teachers came out of their classes to hug and kiss him. What did Joey do?

He stood there crying.

Not just a normal 3 year old boy cry, it was more like weeping. He cried so hard his body started shaking. He ran away from his friends and clung to me for dear life. I was so confused.

"Why is he acting this way? Isn't he happy to see them?"

Then his classmates lined up to go to chapel time, I took my crying boy into my arms and carried him out of the play yard. His whole class starts yelling.

"Joey where are you going?? Come back!! Let's go to chapel!!"

Hearing the sadness and disappointment in their voices and feeling Joey weeping in my arms made me realize. I made a mistake.

When we went home I asked him about why he was so upset. And he said "mommy, because I so sad to see my friends. I want to go to old school... I don't like new school.. I want old school."

I was too brash, thought too little of his feelings, gravely underestimated the depth of love a little boy can have for his friends and the strength of those bonds. I overlooked the fact that his friends became a part of him and seeing them again without knowing if he would ever see them after that, lead him to feel sorrowful.

I ate my words and called his old preschool to see if there were openings. The preschool director said that his classmates were so sad during chapel the day we visited. When the pastor asked them who they wanted to pray for his whole class said "Joey!" Her words compounded my guilt.

So we enrolled him back to his old school. He was so happy and excited to go back. The first day his friends crowded around him and gave him hugs and kisses. He stood there confident and happy to receive all of them, knowing he was back for good.

He's back to his old happy crazy self. I learned to remember that though he is little, I should never make little of his thoughts, feelings, and his friendships. He's 3 years old and has a deep capacity to love, to grieve, be joyful and internalize the situation around him. I realize that I have to be all the more weary of my short comings because they affect him. Hopefully, for my son, I'll do better the next time around to think before I speak and look before I leap.

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Its been raining a lot where we are in Hawaii. Its rainy season now but a couple days ago the sun came out for a bit after a full day of rain. I took the kids out to the field across the street from out house and got to take pictures!

Not a day goes by where I am not completely dumbfounded by the beauty of Kaneohe...

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The Destruction Continues...

Soo my son has been driving me crazy as usual. Like I said in an earlier post, one of the drawbacks to some of the improvements in his behavior is that it is all the more frustrating when he regresses. O regress he did! He got in a lot of trouble a couple weeks ago from drawing all over the TV, the couch, the floor etc. Joe and I were livid. We made sure he understood why we were so upset. So a week goes by and everything is ok until this past week. He was "playing" in the playroom and I hear a lot of banging and scratching noises. I immediately assume hes just playing with his toys. I walk into the room to find this.

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He drew all over the wall and the floor. Well I was furious but more than that I was upset because he knew we didn't want him to do that, he knew it was wrong but he did it anyway! He got in a lot of trouble again. I wonder what was going through his mind. I wonder does he just get so much joy from drawing on the wall and on the floor that he doesn't think about the consequences? Maybe he thinks it's worth the trouble? Well not to long after he did this, I was in kitchen and came out to find this!

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AGAIN. HE DID IT AGAIN!! We thought we hid all the crayons but not well enough. Can some mothers please shed light on why this is happening? How is it that he knows the consequences to something but he does it anyway?? (Sigh) but then again looking at my own life, most mistakes were things I knew were wrong but I walked into it anyway. Maybe the answer is: he is my son...

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