Sagittarian Mama, Aquarian Child

Lying in bed with my 3 year old he says, “mommy because….. I love you forever.”

“You know what forever means?”

“Yeah because you’re always with me.”

“I love you forever and ever and ever.” But as I speak I think, well there’s a chance by circumstance I won’t be here forever, realistically thinking. “But Baby, what if I’m not here forever? What if maybe I am sent away one day?”

He stares into my eyes silent for some time. I stare back.

“Well then I will fly up and catch you. Yeah I will fly up and catch you and bring you back down so you will be with me forever.” He speaks with conviction.

“I love you baby Forever and ever!”

Porches

Pure Bliss

Slow mornings

Vanilla steamer

Cappuccino

Ficus Benjamina

Gentle sunlight

“How’s you cup.”

“Mmmmmmm”

1.5 Generation Christmas

I didn’t grow up celebrating Christmas.

It was like my brother and I were Hansel and Gretel wandering like orphans wandering into strange yards watching through windows other families cozied up by a fire place with a Christmas tree illuminating the room and families holding tradition.

We stood outside doors waiting to be invited in and watch them open presents and enjoy the good high spirits of whatever tradition they celebrated while our own parents worked all night and day on their busiest night of the year.

Neither completely Korean nor American, we had less tradition to hold on to, but the dream of my parents was for us to belong here.

And so I am,

Making ornaments,

Witnessing my children completely apart of “their” tradition,

And I am standing completely a part of it rather than watching through someone’s window,

Finally belonging.

Musingnude #15 (on motherhood)

When I watch them, I am utterly amazed at the miracle of life. Sometimes I wonder how I was able to co create and raise these kids and regardless of my flaws, fears, inadequacy, how they are turning out better than anything I could have planned and drawn out. 

I could barely keep a fish alive before and somehow something instinctual and some higher power has guided me to birth these two and they are, to me, the most amazing, sweet, and crazy human beings I have ever met. 

Even when they are screaming and crying, I love them. 

The other day Elijah got upset and he growls and kicks and yells and really every out of line action. When he calms down I go to talk to him. He says,”mom I have anger issues.” “Oh so you know? Ok how should we figure out how to not act on them…” And he’s sweet again and loving and tells me,”I love you.”

Today Clary was back and forth crazy and sweet. He broke a glass terranium because he couldn’t find his toy train. Got in trouble and ran into Elijah’s room, slammed the door and laid in bed saying,”I’m bad.” I said,”your a good boy, your a sweet boy.” And this two year old says uh uh. “I’m not sweet. I’m a bad boy.” Finally cheers up and we play and tickle and he just shouts,”I love you mom.” And things are good for a couple hours. Then he throws another fit because he wants to play with my palette of eyeshadow with his feet and I won’t let him. Which leads to another rampage. I give him the pallete to hold and he goes back to the bedroom and cuddles with this big makeup box and falls asleep cuddling it and wanting me to stroke his hair. 

And I suppress a little giggle because of the silliness of it, and at the same time am exhausted at the energy spent playing and soothing him. 

And the boys are alive and healthy and beautiful and craziness and all, I wouldn’t change a single thing. 

The miracle of life is amazing. ​

Broken Pyramid


Wake me to the scent of coffee,

Nina Simone on the record player

Soft white goose down comforters cold against my flesh 

With morning light peaking through the blinds,

Beads of dew settling on blades of grass reflecting a hundred little prisms on my bare feet,

And stillness. 

Yes that’s perfection, 

But most mornings are similar to a broken pyramid. 

It looks and feels beautiful, but a little more effort to hold,

And little more strength to carry me through. 

The Avocado Tree

Two years ago I married my love.  

And we each brought our own baby,

One girl, one boy. 

Four years ago,

We found a cozy home with a big empty backyard. 

We literally found it in the middle of the night riding bikes and walked through an enchanting green gate and sat and talked about our dreams sitting on the cool green grass moist from the autumn dew. 

Within a couple weeks, it was our home. 

I uprooted grass, tilled the soil, planted seeds and found out I was pregnant as the seeds were sown. 

Right before our wedding, this avocado tree began to sprout directly from our compost as we promised “I do”

It seems impossible to measure time, but this tree right in the heart of our backyard is as tall as our home and in another couple years it will bear fruit. 

We’ve set roots in this place exactly four years ago,

And I realized today, 3 kids, and 3 chickens later that this is 

The longest my gypsy feet has ever stayed put in a place.

And my wild heart has been tamed. 
Love you Jose  😍😘

Magic


Magic
Do you believe in magic?

Morning rituals with coffee, laundry, and gardening had me in reality

When a strong yet little voice of my two year old demands,”go for a jog?! Let’s go for a jog?! STROLLER?!” And off we go. 

His contentment keeps him silent and I get to look at everyone’s beautiful gardens and guess who belongs to each. 

The house bordered with neatly trimmed rose bushes must belong to a little old lady with permed white hair who prefers tea of over coffee and has nice sons who visit on Sunday’s. 

The house with a variety of succulents, I imagine a couple in their late 60s awaiting retirement and longing for a home on an island they haven’t been to since their 20s. 

Jogging past the groomed green lawn, clean with hedges and nothing more,

Hmmm maybe a young couple who bought their first home and is trying to have a baby when she’s fertile, otherwise they are just polite and lights are out by 9pm. 

Yes I make judgements and will occasionally catch a grandmother out with her kitchen knife clearing away dandelion weeds and washing her trash can or some guy with a cigarette and coffee in his hands rushing off to work, where he times out the day by coffee and cigarette breaks and looks at his coworkers ass to pass the time. 

Then my son finally speaks,”Go home? Hi mr bird! Hi mr bird. Hi clouds. Go home?”

And 30 minutes of seeing the world we come back and rest in front of our own garden where a young family with three kids live. 

And do they believe in magic?

I dare you to watch life grow before your eyes and say you don’t. 

Motherhood

(A true story)

 
Motherhood to toddlers, it’s true,

What they say,

See I had to go number two,

And left him for a few 

And came back to find not one or two, 

But a whole plate of noodles must have flew 

Splattered as if a giant went achooooo

And because I wanted to poo,

Without you,

My little dude. 
Dedicated to clary. 

Bow Down Tradition

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When I was little, I grew up with Only my brother, mom, and dad.
We didn’t celebrate much,
But I remember feeling free
Running around outside topless,
Not realizing how foreign I looked.
Then on a lunar new year, family knocked on our doorsteps.
“Let us bow to the ancestors,
Let us bow to the elders,
Let us bow to our parents,
And to me, to these strangers.”
My little brother would, and they paid him in large bills if 20 and 100.
I cried and refused no matter how much money I saw waved in front of my face.
I was not accustomed to tradition, and customs, and rituals.
It was strange and my ego must have been too scared and too weak.
Many lunar New Years passed and not a single bow from me
my ego became accustomed to refusing and it grew proud.
This same pride kept me silent in church for years because I didn’t want to share prayers,
This same pride kept me silent of pain and suffering for years because I didn’t want to share shame.
Yet ironically, the pain led me to a place where I found myself bowing daily, ritually to the sun, the moon, the earth, and all the higher beings.
The bowing humbled and strengthened my ego,
shed the pride so that each time I find myself bowing,
I think of my grandma, who also loved to run outside topless,
My parents whose wisdom became clear to me,
My ancestors that made me who I am today.
And I stopped feeling foreign.