Just Because.

It's hard to believe, but Abby is turning 11 months tomorrow! She is in that funny in-between stage, where she is super active (always standing, cruising, climbing and crawling) but not quite walking, so it is really frustrating for her to go to public places like the playground and library, since there's no place for her to roam free.

I was cuddling with her in the rocking chair before her afternoon nap, when it struck me.  My kids are growing up.  It's one of those things that sneaks up on you, while you are wishing away those difficult stages like teething or spitting up every 10 minutes.

And then, suddenly, you just look at them and they look so grown-up to you.

Little big guy.

As they grow, I sometimes get nostalgic for the days when I could just hold them forever and take in their newborn scent and tickle their teeny tiny feet, and they would just give a contented sigh and sleep, sleep, sleep in my arms.

Yet, somehow this makes it all the more special when they come and sit with their mama these days.  Not just because they need something or because I make them do it...but because they choose to.  

He grabbed a blanket and crawled into my lap, announcing, "Sit with umma."

And my heart promptly melted.

I love when they come just to find rest, comfort, and enjoyment from being with me.  

I love when they sit with me solely to show me that they love me and to receive love from me.

Can't get enough of her giggles :)

And today, as I loved on my little girl and received her onslaught of kisses and giggles, I think I heard God whisper, "I love it too."

I know everyone says this, but I am learning so much about the Father's heart from being a parent myself.  When Jonathan was just learning to talk, I would coach him to say things like, "I love you!" And when I asked, "How much?" He would answer, "So much!"  It cracked me up and warmed my heart...but it is nothing compared to these days, when he comes up to me and, unprompted, tells me that he loves me.

When we were little, we were taught to tell God how much we loved Him and to thank Him for everything.  I believe God loves any time His children come to Him, but it can't compare to how it delights and honors our Father's heart when we sincerely express our love and our gratitude.  When we come to Him - not with an agenda or out of desperate need or out of habit before a meal - but simply to find rest in Him.  To love Him and receive His love.

I've always thought the sweetest reason for sending flowers was "just because."  Now I believe it is the best reason for spending time with God.  

Just because.

Where I Work

On a whim, I decided last Saturday to join a photo challenge for the month of March.  Nothing fancy - just my camera phone and a small way to stretch my creativity on a regular basis.  (Here is the photo challenge I'm doing. You can view my photos on instagram)

Today's challenge had me thinking.  The prompt was "where I work," and being a SAHM, this could mean so many different things.  My original thought to pinpoint the specific location where I get the most done.

The entire house?  The laundry room?  The kitchen island is where I spend a lot of my day, making lists, preparing meals and feeding my family.  I even thought about my bed, which is where I usually tackle my crafting projects late into the night (bless Aug's soul for putting up with my craft clutter!).

This is what I chose.

This rocker, though only a few years old, has racked up a good number of miles.  It's where I put up my weary feet as a nervous yet excited mama-to-be.

It's where, as a brand-new mommy, I rocked my newborn to sleep while reading stacks upon stacks of parenting books.  It's the one seat that I've warmed at all hours of the day and night.

It's where the kids and I share secret giggles and silent, inside jokes - the kind where all I have to do is look at them and we both break out in hysterical laughter.  It's the place where, if Jonathan sees me holding Abby, he will drop everything to climb in my lap, too, for cozy cuddles.

In this chair, I rock, feed, comfort, talk with, sing to, and pray over my babies.

It may not be the place where I get the most "work" done, but it's the place where my most important work is done.  Sowing into the lives of these little ones that I have been entrusted to raise and love.

This is where I work.

Bedtime Monkeys

The other night I was away from home during the kids' bedtime.  Augustine texted me this photo to show me what I was missing...

Jonathan + Curious George = Buddies 4 ever

Apparently, while Aug was getting Jonathan ready for bed, Jonathan spotted the monkey pajamas and insisted that George wanted to wear them.

I'm not sure what I love more - the fact that Jonathan wanted to dress up his toy monkey or that my husband so willingly complied...  :)

Melting My Heart...

Maybe I'm just a big ole softie, but this boy has quickly learned how to melt my heart into a puddle of nothingness.

Bedtime is his favorite time of the day.  It's also his least favorite time of the day.  He loves it because we spend time cuddling in bed, talking about our day, reading the stories he chooses, and praying for others.  

He hates it because it always ends with the lights being turned off and that silly thing called sleep.

So Jonathan has been getting creative with his bedtime-delaying tactics.  Usually it's the typical plea for a drink of water...but the other night he used his Curious George stuffed animal as an excuse by saying, "No turn off the light...George scared!"

Jonathan positioned George and Bear and then requested that I take their picture...

He then joined them, but was concerned because "George not smiling!" (I guess Bear was ok...)
[Also - pardon his pants-less state... See #1 on the list in this post :) ]

The other night Aug was putting Jonathan to bed and he started calling out for Umma (what he calls me - Korean for "mama").  He's been doing this as another bedtime-delaying tactic, so Aug just continued on with the bedtime routine.

Then Jonathan started repeating over and over, "Tell Umma "I love you"!", which caught Aug completely off-guard.  Who could say no to a plea like that?  Not this daddy.  He brought Jonathan over to our room just so Jonathan could tell me that he loved me.

And Jonathan did so, grinning proudly that he had finally found a loophole in bedtime.  :)

That Was Fast...

Jonathan and Aug took an evening walk tonight to enjoy both the unseasonably warm weather (70 degree weather in December? I'll take it!) and the neighborhood Christmas lights.

When they returned, Jonathan excitedly reported, "I saw Christmas lights!"

Just to be sure, I teasingly responded, "What about Crickcrum trees?" but he very slowly and seriously repeated, "No, I saw Christ-mas lights."

Is it possible for your heart to simultaneously break (with wistfulness of the fleeting times) and swell (with pride for my growing boy)?

Peaceful

If I have to wake up in a place other than my own home, I would choose my parents' house any day of the week.

There is something so peaceful and calming about morning time in their home.  Coffee brewing, a breakfast with some sort of meat, and always - always! - a dish of fresh fruit.  Sunshine pouring through the kitchen windows.  My mom bustling around the kitchen, offering us way too much food, and my dad playing with his grandkids and telling corny jokes.

Fuzzy phone pic but sweet moment

It is never a chore to wake up early while visiting my parents. Earlier this week, we spent a couple days at my parents' home.  One morning, after feeding Abby, I crept into my parents' room after hearing their voices and footsteps.  I plopped myself down on their bed and told recent anecdotes about parenting and relished both their laughter and the moment we shared.

In some ways, I was keenly aware of how things have changed since the days when I actually lived with them.  Yet somehow, at the same time, it felt like things had not changed at all...like I was back in elementary school again, climbing into my parents' bed in the wee hours of the morning.

One thing was for sure: it was peaceful.  I can only pray that my own kids will feel the same way about our home as they grow up. :)

The Best Things About Two-Year-Olds

Gonna be honest here.  This past week, my patience has been tested more often than usual by my little boy.   While we have our regular ups and downs with behavior, several days this week were harder than usual to remain patient and calm.

During the most difficult moments of parenting (thus far), I have to stop and remind myself that one day I will miss these times...that one day he will be old and grown and out of the house.  And I will be sad.

So in the midst of the hair-pulling and in between the time-outs, I decided to stop and focus on all of the wonderful things that come with being two.  I owe that much to my future self.

*Please note: this is in no way a comprehensive list :)  Also, all of the items listed are observations based on my own two year old.  I apologize if the generalizations are bothersome.

1.  The way they talk.  I've already mentioned here about the way Jonathan pronounces "animal crackers").  I love this age because (for Jonathan, at least) he's got the intonations and rhythm of conversation down, but just lacks some key vocabulary.  So he'll relive a story with me (e.g. Samantha getting scared by a goat at the petting zoo) but his story will sound more like: "Samantha...goat...cry..."with filler intonations in between that sound like "dadadadadada." :)
I could listen to a two year old yammer on forever.  And when two year olds talk to each other?  Oh man, I die of the cuteness.


2.  They forgive and forget so easily.  They say that toddler tantrums are like summer rainstorms - they come on suddenly and pass just as quickly.  The best part about it is that they don't hold grudges.  I can learn a lot from my two year  old.


3.  They are easily distracted.  (Think: Dug from the movie Up)  Except instead of "squirrel!!!" the magic word can just as easily be "balloon!!!" or "garbage truck!!!" or "airplane!!!"  But the most powerful and potent of all is something you likely have to spell out when they are around. Like C-A-N-D-Y or I-C-E  C-R-E-A-M.


4.  They love babies.  Even though they aren't too far from being one.  Jonathan just adores babies and takes extra care to be gentle (for the most part) around them.  I can tell he thinks they are cute by the way he smiles and gently strokes their cheeks.  That, and the fact that he says, "cute" when he sees them...

Love is allowing your baby sister to pull your hair and grab your face...and actually enjoying it.

I'm especially grateful because one thing we prayed about (every day of my 2nd pregnancy) was that Jonathan would not be jealous of his sister; that instead, he and Abby would be good friends.  The bond they have is like nothing I've ever seen. He will drop everything he has to go to her side if he hears her crying, and comforts her by saying, "Shhhh, 's OK Abby- don't cry..."  It's enough to melt this mama's heart.

This happens during nearly every weekly photo shoot.  Superman swoops in to kiss his baby sister...

5.  They are fascinated by the little things.  Grown-ups, with our places to go and people to see, tend to stop noticing the small wonders of everyday life.  But when you're two, everything is amazing and new.  Jonathan could sit on our front walk and be entertained for hours - with dirt to be stirred, rocks to be found, flowers to be picked, bugs to be examined, and butterflies to be chased, how could he not?


6.  They are keenly observant.  Jonathan will often talk about and point to a tiny detail in a book's illustrations that I would have otherwise overlooked.  He's been known to point to the bright blue sky and shout "moon!" only to hear me tell him, "No, the moon is what you see at night...oh wait, you're right, buddy - the moon IS out!"  He is also the best at finding things we've misplaced, which is awesome for someone like me who's constantly losing things.  We make a good pair. :)


7.  They are (often) willing to help.  I won't deny the fact that I've taken advantage of this now that I have two kiddos.  When he is willing, Jonathan has fetched many a diaper for frequent changes.


8.  They LOVE repetition.  I know this is not unlike babies ("peekaboo," anyone?) but the funny thing about two year olds is that not only will they revel in the repetitive game during the moment, but they will remember it and request it over and over again the next time they see you (or the object you were playing with)

Ever since this day, he insists on doing this to his buddy - Every. Time. He. Sees. Him.

9.  They know when they are being misunderstood and will try very hard to effectively communicate what they mean until you get it right.

10.  They want to be just like you.  Jonathan loves wearing dress clothes and dress shoes (and his backpack) - all because his father does.

It is simultaneously eye-opening and amusing when you witness your two year old doing or saying exactly what you do.  Like when someone knocks on the front door and Jonathan scurries toward it, yelling, "I'm coming!!!"  Or when he sits in my room and calls for his daddy, "Aug!  C'mere!"

But when he smothers Abby with kisses, whispers "I love you," and calls her "baby girl" or "girlie"(the way I do), or imitates this strange lip thing I apparently do when I take a sip from my coffee thermos, I have to smile.

And *poof* - all of the frustration, stress, and irritability from the moment disappears.

These are the things I want to hold onto and remember from this year - the supposed "Terrible Twos."  And (I already know) these are the things I will miss, years down the line when he is old and grown...

Hold Me.

It was a rough morning.  We were running late.  The house was a mess.  Jonathan turned a deaf ear to my requests for him to clean up his toys.  Abby spit up all over herself and me right as we were leaving the house.  Jonathan had a meltdown because he wanted to keep the screen door closed between us.  I (arms full of diaper bag and snacks and baby) opened it anyway.  His screams echoed down the street as I put Abby in the car.  He then refused to be buckled into his own car seat.  I finally managed to wrangle him into his seat and started driving down the street, exhausted, frustrated, and emotions strung high.

Jonathan screamed at the top of his lungs from his seat.  I cranked up the music to fight back.  My patience for his tantrums was running thin.  I was going to win this battle.

But then something strange happened.  Despite the loud music, I could hear him crying/screaming - not "NOOO!" - not "STOP!" -


...but "UP!"

And even though we were a solid thirty minutes late and everything in me wanted to remain firm and strict and teach him a lesson in obedience...

I turned off the radio, put the car in Park, hit the hazard lights, and got out of the car.  I climbed into the backseat of the van, unbuckled his straps, and just held my boy.

That was all he needed.  As soon as my arms wrapped around him, the tantrum was over; his anger dissipated.  His small body, rigid and tense just moments before, melted into my arms.

And so did my heart.

Because, as I rocked my not-so-baby boy, God gently reminded me of the times He's held me, too.  When all I do is scream and turn the opposite way.  When I resist His ways and insist on my own.   When the things I do don't even make sense and I don't care.  

When I deserve nothing but to face the consequences of my decisions...He extends grace.

No matter how grave the sin, every time I reach out and cried, "UP!" there He is.  Quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.

Psalm 139:7-10

Grace has been extended to me over and over again, as He has held me fast and forgiven me plenty.

As a parent, I look to the heavenly Father as my model; my Example -  He who loves perfectly and guides gently.  I only pray to extend that same grace to my own children...that it would point them to the Father that loves them and holds them too.


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The title of this post, ironically, is also the title of one of Jonathan's favorite songs. "Hold Me," by Jamie Grace (feat. TobyMac)

Mirror, Mirror...

Growing up, I didn't have the greatest self image.  I fell prey to the comparison game, even from a very young age, and always worried I wasn't "enough"...i.e. I wasn't pretty enough, skinny enough, interesting enough, funny enough (and, as one of only a few Asians in my predominantly white town, even American enough) for others to like me.

Fast forward a decade or two and a whole lotta grace.

This past week, Abby turned four months old.  She's super alert and strong and holds up her head quite well.  She loves to sit in my lap to observe the happenings around her.  And she especially loves to interact with herself in the mirror.

I took this 10 second video about a month ago, but these days she is still just as fascinated (if not even more).

She lights up, as if to say, "Hey beautiful! There you are again!"  And she does this.  EVERY. TIME.

I love it.

I realized that I loved this not only because I love this girl... but especially because so often you will see the exact opposite reaction from girls when they gaze into a mirror.  "Ugh.  I'm so ugly!  Eww, what is this pimple?  I hate my  (any body part)!  I wish I had your hair!"

I'm sad to admit that most of these are direct quotes from my adolescence.

I'm a big proponent of humility and not thinking of yourself more highly than you ought.  But sometimes we go in the opposite extreme, which is also not so good.

After all,

Psalm 139:13-14

This is the verse I have been memorizing this week and it is my prayer for my little girl and all little ones (and grown up ones!) everywhere... that they would know that they are fearfully and wonderfully made.  God takes pride in His creation, which He crafted intricately and purposefully.

And every time we look into the mirror, instead of focusing on imperfections, we can smile and be reminded of a God who lovingly formed us with the greatest care. 

Glad to be a Mom (GTBAM)

...when I accidentally launch a large blob of yogurt onto my shirt in an attempt to multi-task (eating + driving = trouble).

Just dab at it with a wet wipe and call it good.  Others will just assume it's baby spit-up. :)

And doesn't she look like she can keep a secret?

Blessed

Parenting is no joke.  

But at the end of the day, I am simply grateful for these babies.  So thankful that I get to spend every single day with them!

Girl time :)

Playing with Photo Booth...

Delight

I am a stickler for correct pronunciation.  Maybe it's the teacher in me, but I always feel compelled to correct someone when I hear something being pronounced incorrectly.

Except when it comes to my kid(s), apparently.

Yesterday Jonathan began correctly pronouncing "Brown Bear."  Until now (almost 27 months of age), he has been replacing the "R" in brown with an "L" sound, which is both amusing and endearing.  Most people would probably be quick to applaud their child's correct pronunciation, but I've been enjoying this mispronunciation so much that it saddened me a bit...after all, it had been a token, if you will, of his remaining babyhood.

While there is a part of me that looks ahead to the future in anticipation (e.g. when Jonathan learns to read, when Abby is able to go on piggyback rides, etc.), there is an even larger part of me that wants to preserve them, just as they are now, forever.

Like when Jonathan calls his favorite snack "aminal crackers"...

[source]

...or when Abby's face completely lights up when we are being silly...

Photo credit:  Augustine

...or when Jonathan randomly puts on his shoes and a backpack and tells me he's leaving to go to school (his only concept of "school" so far is that it's where his daddy goes every morning)...

...or when Abby furiously gnaws on her itty bitty fingers...

...or when Jonathan plays with the guitar picks his Uncle Joe gave him...

Yes, he is strumming the guitar on his robot shirt...

...and uses them to play his plastic toy guitar (while singing songs he learned from the radio)...

...or when Abby sits on our bed like a tiny queen on her throne...

"Farm Boy, fetch me that pitcher..."

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I take delight in my kids through these different ages and stages.  They don't have to do anything particularly amazing or funny for me to love them.  I simply love to marvel at who they are and what they do.  I take delight in them and who they are right now, just as they are.

I am reminded of one of my favorite verses -  Zephaniah 3:17:


God's reminding me that He too delights in me (and you!) through all the ages and stages of my life.  I don't have to do anything particularly impressive or noteworthy for Him to notice me and love me.

He takes delight in me right now, even when all I see are the areas in which I need to grow.  Even when I mess up, lose my temper, or lose patience...

He takes delight in me.

All because I'm His.

How to Make a Mama Feel Loved

Before I had kids, a friend of mine told me, "I feel loved when other people love my kids." I didn't know how deep that truth was until I had kids of my own.

We are really blessed with a loving church family - with people so close that they are "aunts" and "uncles" to my kids.

People who will, without fail, come and greet my kids with a huge smile.  (Even on grumpy days when they don't smile back.)

People who will hug and hold my babies as if they were their own.  And even change their diapers (willingly!).

People who will get down on their hands and knees to play with my kids.  For hours, even.

People who see my kiddos for more than who they are at the moment - whether it be runny-nosed, spit-up prone, fussy,

or just plain mischievous.

I love seeing others love my babies.  It makes me feel wholly loved by them, too.  Because I love my kids fiercely, when I see others loving on them, I feel like they are joining in on my cause...that they are teaming up with me to care for and love my little ones.

This got me thinking...

My Father in heaven is a good Father....Creator of every single being on earth.

Does He feel the same way when I love those He has made?  When I see them for more than who they are at the moment - whether it be needy, hurtful, unpleasant, or difficult to love?  When I see them the way that He sees them (like this lady)?

Could it be that loving those around me is a way to really show love for the Father?

Could it be that His heart is warmed at the sight of others joining in with Him to love those He has created?

Something to think about as I go through my day...