Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Who you gonna call?

So, we had a very strange occurrence this morning. At about 6am, right in the middle of a dream, I was awakened by a loud thwack. It was most definitely a thwack and not a crash or a bang. Jeff and I both sat up and before I could say "did you hear that?" he was already up and charging out into the living room. On a side note, I was impressed by his bravery seeing he was in his underwear and half asleep but he was READY TO RUMBLE with anyone who wanted to eff with his family. He was not afraid to throw down in his boxer briefs and undershirt. He flipped all the lights on and ran up to the front of the house. We've been worried about break-ins and think our neighbors were burglarized a couple weeks ago, so this was a very real fear. In fact, we've noticed the po po staked out on different streets around us ever since that happened. While he was checking the front, I walked out and as I came down the hall, I noticed that Max's snack ball was laying in the middle of the floor. This is what it looks like:We keep Max's various sippy cups, bottle stuff (yes, he still takes one bottle. DON'T JUDGE) and assorted other things on the kitchen counter, which is about 3 feet or so away from where I found the snack ball. I picked it up and told Jeff that I found our intruder. It was going to kill us with trans fats and empty carbs. WHAT WON'T, AMIRITE? Anyway, we both sighed in relief and went back to try and get in our last 45 minutes of sleep before we had to wake up for real. When we laid back down, I started thinking about this situation. First and foremost, how in the hell did a snack ball that had been sitting motionless on the counter for days, and at least 12+ inches away from the counter edge mind you, suddenly fling itself off and roll 3 feet into the middle of the hallway? SERIOUSLY, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? Anyone? It's not possible that the wind did it because nothing else blew off and this wasn't the lightest thing sitting there AND there wasn't any wind anyway. The counter isn't sloping because again, nothing else rolled.
This ball was even sitting in the corner of the counter. I AM SERIOUS. What the hell happened? I am now convinced that it had to be a ghost. There isn't any other explanation. When Jeff was heading to work, I threw the ball on the floor again to see if it was the same sound and sure enough, it was a definite thwack. I was like "that's the sound, right?" and he was like "Yep, that's it. How the hell..?" I shook my head and was like "heh heh, must be a ghost." and he laughed. I was serious, though and then he kinda looked like he thought it was really weird too and now I might have to throw out the snack ball (sorry, Liz) because maybe it's possessed and there isn't room in this house for a snack ball with a mind of its own.

Anyway, that's what happened.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

He's a song and dance man.

So, Max is learning to talk. In fact, he is in his bed right this minute yelling, "BOOM BOOM" over and over. He is supposed to be sleeping. He's been saying mama and dada and babo (bottle) for a while now, but he's started using sentences now. He's really just repeating things we say a lot, but he's using them in context. That's pretty cool. He will point to something and kinda half talk-half whisper, "WHASSAT?" He will also ask us "whadodododoo?" which translates in English as "what did you do?" He will occasionally drop a "dude" or an "oh yeah" and he's a huge fan of "uh oh." He also spends a lot of time walking around having an imaginary conversation in another language, but he seems to know what he's talking about.

He has also developed a great love for dance. This is probably due to the fact that his mother has been known to do the "Thriller" dance in the living room when it comes on MTV. Which it does. Often. He's a big fan of the Wiggles and I made him a playlist of their songs, along with some choice "Yo Gabba Gabba" cuts. When we put it on in the car, he throws his hands up and shakes them like he just don't care. He still enjoys a good Black Eyed Peas or Madonna song thrown in, but those damn Wiggles have some kind of hypnotizing power. Kudos, fellas.

Jeff took some video earlier of him doing both dancing and talking. Now, he's not reciting poetry here, he's a baby who can kinda make words sound normal so don't be too judgy. I was also holding the camera and trying to hold him while he tried to take it from me, so pardon the Blair Witch style cinematography. BUT, you can totally hear him say "whassat?" Seriously. He really says it. He is also an awesome dancer.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Cake Alert

If you love cake and all things Canadian, and who doesn't, go to Even if you don't, go there anyway.

Friday, September 18, 2009

We went for a walk. She did not.

So, we just got back from taking a family walk. Our dog Zoey blew her wad early and was soon sprawled out in the grass "taking a break." Jeff didn't want to have to carry her so we decided to see if she would ride with Max. It worked out great. She was like this the entire time.

Jeff said something about her being "lazy." He said "Zoey is lazy." He was right.

Public Service Announcement: Adoption Edition

So, I've got a little bone to pick. Not with you guys so relax. I don't know if you know this, but Katherine Heigl, the actress on Gray's Anatomy, just adopted a baby girl from Korea. From what I've read, the girl is 10 months old (one month older than Max was when we got him) and has special needs (which Max also had.) Obviously, I've been following this story with great interest and I'm really happy for them, even though I'm not really a fan of the actress so much. I don't watch her show because it looks really annoying and I was forced to sit through some movie she did about bridesmaids dresses on a plane and quite frankly, no one should have been forced to watch that crap while trapped in a flying metal tube.


Some of the comments from the articles I've read make me want to put my fist through the computer. I've heard her child referred to as "the trendy foreign baby she purchased," "her new exotic accessory," or that she plans to use the baby for "fame whoring opportunities," and my favorite "why can't she adopt a baby here in AMERICA?" I won't go on because some of them are vile and I won't reprint them. On several occasions, especially on those sites that I frequent and comment on myself, I've felt compelled to defend her and her husband, people I don't know, regarding their decision. With that, I'd like to say this:

1. Adoption is NOT EASY and isn't something taken lightly. It's not a way to avoid stretch marks (thanks Wal Mart checker for that gem). It's not easier than pushing a baby out of your lady parts (less painful certainly, but not easier.) It's a decision that (usually, not always) comes from years of struggle to have a biological child. Our adoption was 2+ years of probing, parenting classes (which every prospective parent on Earth should take in my opinion), background checks, writing checks, endless phone calls to government agencies where you may or may not get the answer you need, in addition to the mountain of paperwork involved every step. This was all after I had tried to get pregnant for 3 years. I didn't wake up one day and think "hmm...I'm kinda bored today. LET'S ADOPT!"

2. Foreign adopted babies are NOT accessories, nor did 99.9% of us who did it do it because Madonna, Angelina, etc. did it and we want to be cool like them. My aunt adopted my cousin from Colombia, South America back in the 80's and she certainly wasn't following some made up trend. Max does not match any of my shoes or handbags nor do I try to wear him around my neck like a stole.

3. There are MANY reasons why we, and many others like us, chose to adopt overseas. None of those reasons are yours or anyone else's business. For the record, a baby is a baby and if they don't have a home, they need one, regardless of where they live. For us, a Korean adoption was the perfect choice but I'm sure there are plenty of people that have used the US system with great success. That was their choice, this was ours. Neither is a bad one and a word of advice to all of you. If you meet someone who has an adopted child from a foreign land, don't be a jerk and right away ask them why they didn't adopt from America. It's not cool and I wouldn't ask someone why they got knocked up by THAT guy, ya dig? By the same token, I love to talk about our experience and I have no problem answering legitimate questions about our process, I just don't feel like anyone needs to defend THEIR choice. I get that it's a question that many people want to ask, just do it appropriately.

So that's that. I feel better now. Once again, I wish K. Heigl, her husband and their little girl all the happiness in the world.

Oh yeah, one more thing, and this has nothing to do with the actress, this is my own pet peeve (man, what crawled up my ass today?!) When you find out someone adopted, please PLEASE do not utter the following phrase:

"Well, now that you adopted, I bet you'll get pregnant! My (insert sister, cousin, friend of a friend's sister's aunt, etc. here) did it and next thing you knew, she was pregnant. YOU JUST WAIT!"

Ahem. I cannot get pregnant. I. CANNOT. GET. PREGNANT. It won't happen. Trust me, we've tried. A lot. The myth that an adoption spawns a biological child is just that, a myth. Sure, it happens, but that doesn't mean it WILL happen and while all I can do it smile and fake chuckle, inside it makes me want to scratch your eyes out. Just be happy for the person and leave it at that. Please. For the sake of your eyes.

Public service announcement over. Happy weekend!

Sunday, September 13, 2009


So, here's some pics of Max that we've taken over the last week or so. He's really growing into his new hairdo except that it makes him look like he's 16.

So, I might have bought him a tiny motorcycle jacket. He thinks he is badass in it. It even has a skull on the back. It's a smiling skull but deep down he's really hard core.

We took him to the park yesterday morning and he was climbing all over the play stuff but wouldn't actually go through the tube part. He got this far and then would stop and crack himself up. Weirdo.

He went down the big slide all by himself. It was a twisty one and he was really proud. We did it about 17 more times after this picture.
Last night we went to the St. Joan of Arc carnival. It was a good catholic occasion with food, games and beer. Lots of beer. Max had his first corndog and based on his diaper this morning, it may be his last.

Cake Alert

This was my last cake weekend for a bit so head on over to and savor the glory.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Road Trip

So, Jeff and I went to Chicago a couple of weeks ago. We go to Chicago fairly regularly so this is not news. The newsworthy part is that we went alone. ALONE. Sans child. We decided that we were due for a little alone time and Jeff was going up there for business anyway so why not. This was the first time we would have been away from Max overnight since we got him and we were both a little nervous because he's been waking up at night again because he's apparently getting every tooth in his head at one time and it makes him crabby. And by crabby I mean really crabby, like "nothing will make him happy" crabby. Like "go insane in your brain from listening to the whining 24/7" crabby. It's really fun.

Our plan was this. Since Jeff was going up early for work, I was going to drop Max off at grandpa's on Friday morning and then head out. We were only going overnight but by the looks of all the crap I was dragging along with me, you would have thought I was going around the world and by the look on grandpa's face when I hauled all this crap into his living room, I think HE thought we were never coming back. Anyway, the drop went well. Max isn't much of a crier when we leave him and he had plenty of room there to run around so he was pretty happy to be there. After I briefed him on everything I could possible think of that could go wrong, which is A LOT OF STUFF, and after grandpa noticed that his diaper smelled kinda poopy, I left. I know when to make an exit. By this point I was running somewhat behind schedule so I hopped on the highway to make up some time. Unfortunately, I made up too much time because within about 10 minutes of leaving his house, I looked up to see flashing lights behind me. Now, this was rush hour morning traffic, I had a car in front of me, behind me and next to me and while yes, I was speeding, it wasn't THAT fast and I was only really keeping up with the traffic around me. Well, I guess he decided to nab me and while those other jerks sped off to wherever, I was heading to the shoulder. After a few minutes, I was the proud owner of a bright, shiny new ticket. 76 in a 65. THAT IS CRAP. He told me that if I would have been going 1 MPH slower, he probably would have let me go. Why did he tell me that? What point was there? So now I know to go only 10 MPH over the limit, not 11? Is that 1 MPH going to spiral me out of control? Whatever.

After that auspicious start, I was finally off to Illinois for 5 hours of looking at things that are flat. I made it up in good time and soon was pulling into the lovely Courtyard in Schaumburg. Nothing like the wilds of suburbia. Jeff and I met up and headed to IKEA, which was only about 2 minutes away. After a bit there, we went back to the hotel to relax, something we rarely have time to do these days. They had an indoor pool and spa, which was great since it was rainy and about 65 degrees out in AUGUST, so we headed there for some downtime until dinner. There wasn't anyone in the pool area so we thought it would be fun to go from the spa to the pool and back. Jeff said it was invigorating. I said it was EFFING COLD but did it anyway. During one of our dunks in the pool, we decided to swim laps because we had just eaten IKEA pizza and potato chips and wanted to work it off. Ha, just kidding. We don't work it off. Anyway, as I pushed off the side, I briefly opened my eyes to make sure we weren't going to collide and all of a sudden I felt this pull on my eyes. I came up and realized my contacts had been sucked out of my eyeballs. LITERALLY SUCKED OUT. I've been wearing contacts since I was in 4th grade and have been swimming in them almost as long. I've been in many oceans, pools and waterparks and have NEVER lost a contact. Ever. Somehow I managed to lose them both. At once. I could literally feel them rip off my eyeball. I asked Jeff if he could see them floating and after he stopped laughing, he said no. Since I couldn't see anymore, we called it a day and went back upstairs.

We had plans to go to dinner at Roy's, which is downtown, and I was really excited to be eating there. Roy's is a Hawaiian-fusion restaurant and we had eaten there when we were in Hawaii and it was very, very delicious. It's also very fancy so that was our big splurge for the weekend, but the short ribs made it all worthwhile. It was a beautiful night downtown and it was lovely to be out with Jeff and not have to worry about getting home on time or whether someone was going to throw mashed potatoes at my head while I tried to scarf something down. It was also nice to go back to the hotel and sleep in a giant bed with no beeping monitor next to my ear or a dog hogging up valuable space in our queen bed. Unfortunately for Jeff, I'm so used to sleeping close to him that he said he woke up because I had rolled so far on him that he was about to fall off the bed. He kept wondering why I was so excited to sleep in a big bed since I had no intention of actually using the extra space. Old habits die hard.

On Saturday we met up with my friend Gina in Oak Park for lunch. We had planned to go downtown for a bit and then head home, but we had more fun hanging out with her and by this point we actually missed the little bugger so we were on the road back home by 3pm, and in the front door around 8. Max was still up and when we opened the door, I expected him to run up squealing but instead, I flung the door open, he took one look at me, ran back to grandpa and buried his face in his legs. WTF?! Traitor. He finally realized it was us and seemed happy we were home. Grandpa was REALLY happy we were home. REALLY, REALLY HAPPY. Now, this is a man who rides miles on his bike everyday, hikes for fun on the weekends, skis all over the globe and generally does anything active. He was BEAT DOWN by this child and told Jeff it took his back about 4 days before it stopped hurting. He was like "wow, he's really active. You can't turn away for a second and he never stops moving and running around. How do you get anything done?" Welcome to my world, grandpa. Max is a live wire and he does. not. stop. ever. Heal up soon grandpa, because we're looking at the beach next. HA!

Monday, September 7, 2009

Cake Alert

It's been REALLY busy here at Kimchi HQ, hence the lack of posting. I've got the tale of our trip to Chicago last weekend to recap but until I get around to that, please go and enjoy the fruits of my labor at

Thanks, pal.