Tag Archives: love

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Goodbye.

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Yesterday morning, my beloved grandfather, affectionately known as “Kenny” passed away. He had suffered from a form of dementia for around 3 years and he left this world peacefully, holding my Nana’s hand. I am very sad, but I have an absolute wealth of lovely memories to draw on when I feel this sadness and I find great relief in knowing that he is not suffering anymore. I have no doubt that wherever he is now, he remembers each and every one of us who were loved by him during his time on earth. I am not usually one to announce something like the death of a loved one via blogging or social media, but I just cannot let this pass without sharing with you what is going on in my life and how special Kenny was/is to me.

My family will be travelling interstate to celebrate his life with my dad’s side of the family as soon as we can.

RIP Kenny. We love you. But you already know that ;)

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Kez’s Valentine’s Day Cupcake Recipe (hrmm).

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So, every year my husband and I do the same old dance around what the 14th of February means to us. We bitch and whine about how it’s a big, icky pink and red mess of commercialism at its best, but then we look at each other (usually always at the last minute) with raised eyebrows…could we? Should we? Would it be so bad? Thing is, I’m not one of those chicks who says, “Don’t worry about it this year…you don’t have to get me anything” and then gets mad when their partner doesn’t get them anything. I’m seriously non-plussed about the whole thing. I just read the disgusting dedications in the newspaper and laugh my arse off. Like the one year this guy sent identical messages to three different women…only, because they were identical, they were placed one after the other so it was reeeeeally obvious. BUSTED! Who doesn’t live for that kind of hilarity on Valentine’s day?? I like deciding on the couples with the grossest pet names for each other too. Too many ‘pookies’ for my liking.

*spews in own mouth a little*

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big sucker for love (quite the romantic at heart), but sometimes the scheduled PDAs get a little gross on the 14th. So many mushy, gushy posts on Facebook. There’s always that one person with OTT braggy pictures, “LOOK AT MY FIFTY DOZEN ROSES AND MY DIAMOND ENCRUSTED CUPCAKES, EVERYONE. I AM THE MOST LOVED – THE REST OF YOU CANNOT COMPARE.”

I like to celebrate a bit more quietly, I guess is all I’m saying. It’s gotta mean something to us, the couple, more than it has to mean something to everyone else we know. Who doesn’t like an excuse to show their loved ones that they care? On purpose? A little extra effort than usual? We don’t have anything to prove to anyone else.

Today I decided I had better do something. I’ve been feeling a little lovey dovey towards my husband lately (haha) and I kind of needed the excuse to make some small gestures of love, besides letting him play NBA 2K13 (or whatever it’s called) on his PS3 and letting him watch sports in the commercials of whatever I’m already watching (I am so romantic and generous).

I decided that a card and some special surprise treats would be in order. I almost chickened out, as I stood with the other scared husbands (it’s already Valentine’s Day but I know the hubby will understand because I haven’t been able to get out of the house for a few days) at the almost decimated Valentine’s Day card stand. Yes. I am a stereotypical straight man. I found a nice card that wasn’t hideous and had a nice message inside that I could add to, and the other husbands/boyfriends/booty calls and I scattered suddenly, like nothing had ever happened. I’ll keep your secret, boys. You bought that card WEEKS ago, right? *wink*

I have decided to make my husband our favourite chicken minestrone soup (sounds like a winter dinner but it’s so fresh and perfect for summer) and I am going to surprise him with some gorgeous cupcakes…

Which brings me to this…

Here’s the “recipe”* that I used to make my husband some Valentine’s Day cupcakes:

Kez’s Valentine’s Day Cupcakes (perfect baking for a stay at home mum of a toddler)

  • Consider baking your no-fail, awesomely tasty cupcake recipe from scratch. Remember that you’re kidding yourself, because you have a teething one year old and no other adults in the house, plus you are using an oven.
  • Go to the supermarket.
  • Buy the first obviously manufactured for Valentine’s day cupcake mix that comes with little heart candies to sprinkle on top.
  • Shake off any feelings of guilt at not making the ‘real’ thing – this part’s important.
  • Preheat your oven to 180 degrees celsius. Watch out for stray toddler. He’s distracted and doesn’t notice? You just earned yourself 50 points in Awesomeness.
  • The ‘recipe’ requires butter, milk and 2 eggs.
  • Freak out about the fact that the butter you swore you bought last time you were at the shops has disappeared and someone has replaced an empty container into the fridge. Find the new container of butter behind the beers…
  • Use up the last of the household’s milk. Oh well. Guess we’re not weaning you onto cow’s milk today, my little toddler friend (hehe actually the weaning process has been going great guns – a little cupcake related setback will not kill us). Tell husband to bring home milk. Don’t tell him why. It will ruin the surprise.
  • See the instructions on the back of the mix box that say you need to use an electric mixer. Think “F**k it, instructions are for pussies” and mix it by hand because, hey, you have upper body strength now. Carrying a toddler around is hard work. Celebrate that.
  • Spoon cupcake batter into patty cases.
  • Lick the bowl, because hey, you didn’t have breakfast today. Totally counts.
  • When you hear a knock on the door, rush to it while furiously wiping chocolate mix from your mouth (and surrounding areas). From the amused look of the guy delivering your surprise roses (from the sneaky husband!!!!!), you can deduce that you did not manage to wipe all choccy smudges off your face after all.
  • Place cupcakes into the oven for 20 minutes.
  • Play with your toddler, until the oven time goes off with a “BRRIIINGGGG”.
  • Run after your toddler to the oven (he loves that “BRRIIINGGG” sound) and tell him/her 10 times not to touch it because it’s “Ouch! Hot!” while making a ridiculous face that is supposed to represent pain. Just when you think you’ll never be able to open the oven safely, you realise that the cupcake recipe states 20-25 minutes baking time. You’ve bought yourself a couple of minutes because you only set the timer for 20. Also, your toddler will suddenly become distracted and run away to play with something at the last second. Another 50 points of Awesomeness. Well done!
  • Place the cupcakes on a rack to cool and take your toddler to bed for a nap. YOU WIN. EVERYONE ELSE CAN GO HOME NOW. YOU HAVE EARNT 100 POINTS OF AWESOME.
  • Later, you can ice your cupcakes with the Betty Crocker frosting you bought earlier.

TA-DAAAAAAAAAAAA.

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*It’s not really a recipe. I’m never going to be a food blogger, you understand? Cool.

Honestly, the way to a man’s heart is definitely through his stomach (well that’s one of two *naughty wink* – don’t read that, Mum), so I think I’m onto a winner. Also? Baking of any description, alone, with a toddler in the house? If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is!

How do you feel about Valentine’s day? Love it? Hate it? Indifferent (that’s us in a nutshell haha)?

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Happy 1st birthday, my Little Mister!

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I cannot believe it. My Little Mister is exactly 1 year old at the stroke of 9:28pm tonight. That was the moment he was dramatically pulled from my poor insides in a very hasty emergency C-Section on a Sunday night. He is now considered to be a toddler (despite not walking quite yet). I HAVEN’T EVEN READ ANY BOOKS ABOUT THIS TODDLER THING. I only just got my head around the whole “what’s with that whole having a baby thing?” question. Damn! Is there such a book as “What to Expect when You’re Expecting…a Toddler”? If so, I’m finding it!!

Anyway, enough of my disbelief and denial. It’s really happening. It is really my little baby’s first anniversary of being outside my womb (I hate the word “womb” for reasons I don’t even understand).

Just last weekend, he took a couple of steps unassisted towards me. Today he tried really hard again and has been wanting to practice – bless him! Soon he’ll be WALKING (or so I’m told haha)! Of course, my husband rushed over when I started yelling out that it was happening, but the poor bloke missed the moment by probably less than a second!

We’ve had the special first birthday party, where the Little Mister was treated like a king by our families (he just about lost his sh*t when we sang Happy Birthday to him) and I can’t believe that one big moment I looked forward to for so long was over in just a few hours (you know – to accommodate for his naps of course)! That evening I sat on the couch with my husband, just shaking my head at how fast that time has gone. It feels so surreal!

I even made the Little Mister’s cupcakes, which made me feel very good about myself and I may have taken a few too many photos of them because I wanted to document the fact that I actually baked for my son’s birthday!! Go me!!

So, I’d like you to meet my Little Mister, aged 1 year old today(!)…

Born: 6th November, 2011 at 9:28pm
Astrological Sign: Scorpio

Likes:

Bananas. Things with wheels on them. Stolen hot chips [he's only allowed a couple which just KILLS him]. Floor biscuits [don't ask]. Sleeping [that's my boy]. Giraffe blankie. Dummy – his or otherwise. New sippy cup with a straw [Mummy finally picked out a good one]. Daddy’s special healthy sausage rolls. In the Night Garden [Heaven help us]. Bright colours. Dogs. Music – almost any kind. Bath time. Cuddles. Long walks on the beach.

Dislikes:

Watching other people eating. Staying still [we've got a wiggler]. Being told he can’t have [insert 'stolen' item here]. Mulberries. Falling over [don't we all]. People walking away without permission. Teething. Losing a dummy out of the side of the cot. Trying to sleep without Giraffe blankie. Not being paid attention to [I see a future in the dramatic arts]. Doing anything on cue [waving, clapping etc].

Activities:

Making a ruckus at swimming lessons. Trying to master a great escape at Rhyme Time in the library. Sucking up to the lovely lady who runs Rhyme Time (and making sure every other bub and mummy knows he’s the teacher’s pet – how embarrassment). Squawking. Smiling. Giggling. Games of peek-a-boo. Busting through closed doors using nothing but body weight. Bouncing until Mummy’s arms almost fall off. Stealing food. Trying to touch the TV. Trying to climb into the TV. “Walking” while Mummy or Daddy hold his hands. Raiding the Tupperware cupboard in the kitchen. Trying to stick his head into the freezer/fridge. Posing for photos. Playing expertly with toys when he thinks no-one’s looking [when being watched he dumbs it down for our benefit]. Talking [not sure which language yet]. Going for a ride in the laundry basket. Keeping Mummy company in the toilet using aforementioned door busting skills [yep]. Crawling into small spaces.

Traits (mostly the positive ones – I’m biased):

Has a wicked sense of humour – finds almost anything funny. Loves to socialise. Very curious – has to know how something works. Give him a toy with wheels and he’ll turn it upside down to investigate. Play with a string puppet in front of him and he’ll look at your hands and how you’re controlling it, rather than at the puppet. Will choose human interaction over toys any time of the day [can result in clinginess sometimes]. Doesn’t hold a grudge [at this point]. Lets you know if you’ve got something wrong, but is so very obliging and thankful when you get it right. Affectionate.
Is almost always happy. A little bit clumsy [he got it from his mama]. Loves to entertain. Can be restless and want to just get up and play, but is also placid when you really need him to be. Has a really easygoing side to him, but also a nervous, anxious side which makes him cautious. Has all of his own hair. Knows how to drive a musical dolphin.

What a catch!

Milestones:

He’s not quite walking yet, but he’s cruising along furniture and taking tentative steps (when he doesn’t over think it and land back on his bottom where he feels safer). He’s eating almost anything that can go soft in his mouth but is not ready for raw vegetables (think carrots etc) or a steak haha. He is both tall and heavy for his age (I’m OK with that). He is wearing (Australian) size 1 clothes and (Australian) size 6 shoes. He can deliberately say “Dad” or “Daddy”, “Mum” or “Mama”.

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To be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure how I wanted to structure this blog post, so I thought that just recording where my little man is at right now seemed appropriate. All I know is that being his mum is so much fun and I have learnt so much about life and about myself since knowing him.

It’s quite a bittersweet day for me, because I know I won’t ever get this special past year with him back, but I am so excited for what is to come. A whole new world where he starts walking, talking and becoming all grown up!

Happy birthday, Little Mister! I love you so so much that my heart often feels like it’s going to burst. Here’s to shopping in a whole new section at department stores, confusion over how to wean you from the bottle, the extra childproofing once you’re walking and the lead up to the Terrible Twos!!

xoxo

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1 year of parenting. What I didn’t expect.

In another week, I will have been a parent for a whole entire year. It’s nuts. I have no idea what’s happened. Seriously, what just happened??

In some ways it feels like it’s been a decade, and in other ways it feels like it’s been, oh…about 30 seconds. Blink and you miss it. That kind of feeling. I just don’t understand how it’s actually possible to fit that much craziness into only a year! 12 months of everything from taking a brand new baby home from hospital, to watching him grow and develop into an almost toddler and worrying about every little thing in between!

So in the spirit of my blog’s name (Awesomely Unprepared), I will celebrate my year of parenting by sharing with you the things that I was Awesomely Unprepared for over the past year :)

OK, so I’ll get the mushy one out of the way. I was not prepared for the ridiculous love that I would feel for my own offspring. I mean, you hear about it, read about it and have an understanding or imagining of what it might be like, but until it happens, you can never really know it. At least it was like that for me. I would do anything to protect my Little Mister. I have become like a fierce mama *insert powerful beast/dinosaur/thing you saw in a movie of your choosing here* and I am constantly surprised by the things that make me feel brave and courageous when it comes to doing right by my Little Mister. Of course, with this ridiculous baby love comes the hot mess that is me every time I see a news story about babies. Also any movie about babies. Any documentary about babies. Any picture of a baby. Basically anything that seems like it could be to do with babies. It can be happy stuff or it can be sad stuff. It can be ANYTHING and suddenly I have tears in my eyes and I’m doing that snotty blubbery thing. I now know what people mean when they say that their love for their child gets them through something. When something happens to a child that is a parent’s worst nightmare, I actually truly understand how horrific that really is. Don’t even get me started on the starving children of the world or I might not be able to finish this blog post.

I’ll be honest. Before I was pregnant and even during, I scoffed at the idea that mums can get all clucky when their first child grows out of infanthood. I thought, really?! Why would you want to go back to that whole crazy stage of life? Why are you looking back wistfully?? Do you really remember how crazy that time of life was?! Don’t you want your child to grow up and be a great, healthy, independent being?? But now that the Little Mister is almost one year old, I kind of understand it. I guess that’s how second, third, and nineteenth kids are conceived. Don’t worry, everyone. I’m not that clucky yet – I have a lot of stuff to forget before I can go there again! I just now realise that as my little baby gets bigger, smarter and is even almost walking, he’s going to soon just look like any other grotty kid on the playground instead of my beautiful, sweet smelling fluffy haired cuddle bug – although, he’ll be my beautiful grotty kid. So, I admit it. I get it now. Geez! In saying that, I am so excited for what the future brings (even if it sometimes scares the living daylights out of me)!

I’m not as cool as I thought I would be. There. I said it. I always pictured myself as being a really responsible, good parent (able to do both discipline and fun) who just also happened to be super awesomely cool too. Like, I thought I would wear really awesome clothes and not really change a thing once the Little Mister popped out. While I do play him great music and I haven’t turned into a Stepford wife/mum (well there was little chance of that haha), I do dress differently. I do drive a station wagon style vehicle (you’ll find that calling it a sports wagon and putting cool stickers on it doesn’t really disguise it at all but keep telling yourself that – I’m just a whisker away from having those awful stick figure families stuck to the back window). I don’t wear short skirts, bikinis, or show off my cleavage (what’s left of it). The sad truth is that not only has my body changed, but so has my attitude. I’ve become all, “Is that practical?”

Booooring.

Also? Babies cost a lot of money. Not like off the black market, silly. Just to keep one alive and stuff. I mean, I knew that having a baby would be a bit expensive. I was the one lecturing my husband on the realities of what we were in for. Turns out I was slightly ignorant. I mean, just like that whole “love for your child” thing I described earlier, there’s a difference between knowing what to expect and actually living it! Therefore, my cool factor is suffering because I can’t buy many new clothes (had to have a ridiculous purging of my ‘stuff that no longer fits’) and I can’t buy ALL OF THE iTUNES. Yeah, my definition of ‘cool’ isn’t even that cool anymore – what, fool? You think being cool is just music and clothes? How pedestrian. Hipsters be hatin’.

If you are just you, or just you and a plus one at this point…imagine how outraged you are when you buy two puny bags of groceries at the supermarket and it’s like $50 and you’re like WTF? That’s ridonkulous!! Add a box of disposable nappies ($30) and a tin of formula ($20) almost every time. Then when you’re pregnant and you’re all, “I’m gonna save money and the environment by using cloth nappies and breastfeeding only”…but it doesn’t quite go to plan and your trendy, expensive (at least for initial outlay) cloth nappies sit unused because you were too scared to use them, plus the breastfeeding thing didn’t quite work out…I mean, not that I’m talking about me here…OK I am. Yeah, you get where I’m going with that.

My husband and I now have a strict budget for each pay fortnight, which we routinely break, but we do it with an educated mind at least? The damage we inflict on our cards is much less (I feel) than it would have been before we started planning better. Yep. I never thought I would actually have to account for every single last cent. Literally. I mean, I was always frugal and very sensible before, but now I have a new meaning for ‘sensible’ and it doesn’t always include a copy of TV Week or a sneaky item of clothing here and there!

I still swear a lot. Seriously. I thought about implementing a swear jar in our house, but then realised I would just swear more because the Little Mister would be receiving the money. You know, for a good cause and all that. So, I’m still working on it. I had no idea how much I don’t give a ship about some things, and how other things can get firetrucked. I really need to be better. Parent fail.

A few years ago, if you were to tell me that you had this great job opportunity for me: It involves very little sleep for a few months, you’re on call 24 hours a day, you will have to pay your own way (ie it’s volunteer work), and it’s messy. Basically, you’ll be wiping someone’s poo and vomit up – for no pay. Daily. Relentlessly. No sick leave. No entitlements. No annual leave. Your employer can’t speak your language, will yell a lot to get what they want and won’t even smile at you for the first six weeks. Also, it will be the most happy time of your life.

I would have thought you were batsh*t crazy.

But it happened. I love it. Sure, occasionally I love it a little less than usual…but I wouldn’t trade this job for the world. I really really hoped I would feel this way when I eventually had a child, but to see that it has become my reality thrills me.

It’s been one year and I am (just to toot my own horn) really amazed at what I’m capable of as a parent and as a person. Having the Little Mister has shown me what I’m made of and I have realised I don’t mind what I’m made of at all. I mean, none of us are perfect, but I feel so happy to know I really am strong and able to love so much. I can’t wait for the many years ahead as we learn and grow together.

Here’s to a year of parenting :)

To see what else I’ve written to celebrate a year of the Little Mister, click here :)

Like Awesomely Unprepared on Facebook xx

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It’s been one hell of a decade.

 

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Today marks 10 years of my relationship with my husband. I’m going to be honest. It’s been one hell of a roller coaster ride. There have been highs and lows as we’ve grown up together. We started out as friends, becoming crazy annoying lovebirds at the ages of 18 and 20 in 2002.

When we jumped in head first, “I love you”s at 3 weeks, moving in together at 3 months, we had NO idea what we were getting into. It’s safe to say that we were awesomely unprepared for the crazy that was to follow. We just knew we were meant to be together in some way.

We’ve endured a lot in our relationship and all of the other things that life has thrown towards us. We’ve had to learn how to grow together and become proper adults – we started this adventure as not much more than kids, really. We’re still learning a couple of houses, a couple of dogs and a baby later! We’re doing everything we can to develop as individuals who each bring something unique and special to our relationship and I hope we can continue to carve our own way as a little family, with new traditions and amazing memories.

I am thankful for the fact that our relationship has brought us our beautiful Little Mister. I am thankful that we’ve never given up on each other when times are tough.

I hope that our future will glow brighter and brighter with each year that passes.

x

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Puppies are not babies. Sigh.

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OK, so it’s time for a little bit of light heartedness around here…

Throughout my lifetime, I’ve seen several puppies grow into successful adult dogs in my family homes. My husband (then live-in boyfriend) and I even adopted one when she was about five months old when we became an adults who felt capable of keeping something alive (which I imagine is what my parents thought about when they adopted me haha). I still can’t keep plants alive, but that’s another story…

Since then we’ve also raised a very rambunctious Labrador/German Shepherd cross, from puppyhood and let me tell you, that was an eye opener. My husband was working away for the first couple of weeks of her life and I saw myself imagining what it would be like to look after a human baby – alone. This canine infant cried all night, escaped every barrier I created for her and was certainly not toilet trained! She chewed on everything in sight (including my hands) and ate a lot. I remember thinking, it was lucky she was SO cute as I recovered from three hour nights of sleep and got on my hands and knees daily to scrub the tiles she had soiled quite comprehensively.

I used to always laugh that having a puppy was like having a baby and that it was all good practice for parenthood. Similarities? Both are cute, they grow up way too fast and your love for them is unconditional.

However, there are also many differences between human puppies and dog babies.

No way! Get outta town!

It’s true. Apparently, it’s not OK to bathe your human infant outside on the lawn by simply dousing him in shampoo and rinsing with the garden hose…even if he is particularly filthy. Also, you can’t put nappies on your dog. Well, you could, but people might think you were a bit weird. I can’t decide which way I’d rather go. Let the baby poop all over the yard, saving money and time where nappies are concerned (just doing one big clean up every few days), or put nappies on your dog, saving the unsightly view of your garden if you fall behind in your lawn clean ups. Hmm.

You have to buy a sh*tload of stuff to have a baby. When you get a dog, you just get a bed, bowl, squeaky toys (that will be half eaten within days), a collar, council registration tags and a few vet bills. No-one really analyses these decisions with you, asking “What colour collar are you buying? Will it suit the puppy’s gender and match your puppy’s style? What kind of bed should I get for my puppy? I want one that will last for more than one puppy’s puppyhood and can convert into three different types – bassinet level, cot level and toddler puppy bed! It must also match the decor of my house and the theme I’ve chosen for my dog’s space. Are the dog toys I’ve chosen educational?”

OK, so some people do. There are a lot of hardcore dog lovers out there. I’ve probably been a lot more casual about the whole thing. I just ask, “Can she eat it and will it be spread all over my lawn by tomorrow morning? No? Well, I’ll take two.”

Usually when you get a puppy, it can already walk. Even the adorable rescued puppies who have three legs instead of four can do this adorable hop/walk thing. For reals. I’ve seen it on YouTube, Oprah and Ellen. Human babies have to be carried or wheeled everywhere. If you put them down anywhere, they just kind of flop about and they can fall off things. Which is scary. Although, I am nervous about the day my Little Mister can walk around. The thought of having to childproof everything to the nth degree terrifies me.

Another thing: You can’t leave your baby home alone with a bowl of water and some biscuits, while you work/party/do the grocery shopping. Apparently that can get you into a lot of trouble. Also, there might be some ethical issues around the idea of microchipping your child so you can be contacted when they get lost. Sounds like a great idea, but apparently it’s not the done thing…yet. I’m sure someone’s working on it.

I guess there are pros and cons in having either a dog or a baby. I’m lucky enough to have both. We’ll see which ones eat us out of house and home first, shall we? :)

Do you have a fur baby or a human baby? Both?

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Five months: What it means to me.

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April marks five months of my Little Mister’s life. It’s an odd age to consider a special milestone, but to me it really is an important one. I didn’t realise just how important it was to me until it arrived and it brought with it the revelation that I had been waiting for this date for all of my adult life (and perhaps even before that).

I have spent my whole life trotting out my little life story to anyone and everyone who seems particularly interested in my “background”. You see, I look Asian on the outside but on the inside I’ve always been an Aussie. It brings with it a lot of fascination and the need to ask me for an explanation. Especially when I’m out with my parents, who don’t particularly resemble me physically!

I was adopted from South Korea as a baby. How old was I, you ask? Well, I was five months and one week old when I arrived in Australia, ready to start my new life as a very loved and cherished Aussie bub.

Every time someone asks (rudely or politely) where I’m “from”, I start my well rehearsed, finely tuned, short spiel. I can sum the situation up in a very short time: “Well, I was born in South Korea but I was adopted at five months old and being Aussie is all I’ve ever known.”

It explains my looks and it lets someone know that I don’t have an unusual ethnicity or different cultural practices (so they don’t start talking to me really loudly or slowly or make assumptions about what I eat or how my family views education blah blah *enter Asian stereotype here*) . Of course, it doesn’t always sink in, but that’s another story ;)

Anyway, I always dreamed of being biologically related to someone. I have loved my life and have always felt extra loved and extra wanted because my parents had to go to such lengths to bring me to them when my own biological family didn’t choose to keep me. It’s just that I dreamed of having that dream my mum/s couldn’t have. I dreamed of being able to carry my own baby safely to term and be able to keep him or her forever. I dreamed of one day having what I had never had – someone who maybe looked a bit like me and shared my genes – in my life.

I’ve spent my life being fascinated by family resemblences. Looking at brothers, sisters, their parents and wondering what it would be like to resemble someone. The advantages, the disadvantages.

When my little man reached the five month milestone a few days ago, I realised what my parents were receiving that September night in 1984. A little very chubby five month old, who was smiling (a coping mechanism I have used to this day), grabbing at things and completely aware of her surroundings. I see what an undertaking it would have been for me to fly all the way from South Korea to start a whole new life and never look back. When my Little Mister starts to show separation anxiety and tests me at night time, crying as I get to his bedroom door after I’ve said goodnight, I realise that I would have had some idea that nothing would ever be the same. That time of my life shaped a lot of who I am today and it is bittersweet when I think about it.

I realise what a gift I have had. I have had a bonus five months with my Little Mister! I’ve seen him from day one (albeit briefly before he was rushed to another hospital for three days - long story). I’ve watched him grow and learn. I was able to breastfeed him (not that it was very easy but I got the opportunity), I was there to give him his first taste of solids: apple puree and broccoli puree (not a fan but we knew we were pushing it haha). I was there to bring him home from hospital and change his first nappies, watch my husband give him his first bath. My parents may have missed out on those moments with me, but I realise one thing. The bond between parent and child is the same no matter how you came together. I now know exactly what my brother and I meant to my parents (and still do). I am so blessed to be a child of loving parents, and a loving parent of a child. Blood isn’t thicker than water: love is.

As my little baby starts to get “boy” legs instead of tiny baby legs, and he starts to push for independence, trying to hold his own bottle and take control of his own spoon, I’m realising just how fast he’s going to grow up! I love who he is (when he grins his face off and puts up with my shenanigans) and I am so glad I get to keep him forever.

Just like it was for my parents, five months is just the beginning of a very special journey. I realise now that what I craved all my life was not simply a little ‘me’ or a genetic relative. I just wanted to realise, to KNOW, that the love I have for my child is exactly the same as the love my parents had/have for me. Perhaps deep down, I needed the confirmation. I needed to know for sure that blood and some genes don’t make an ounce of difference as to how much a person can love (even though with all the blessings and love in my life I already had a pretty strong inkling).

I love you, Little Mister. Thankyou for choosing me as your mummy.

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It’s not all horror and gore.

I want to thank the lovely Liv Bambola for suggesting this blog topic <3

So lately you’ve heard a lot about the trials and tribulations of pregnancy from me. I’ve been a little bit knocked about with the diagnosis of both PUPPP rash and gestational diabetes (what are the odds of getting BOTH?!), so that’s what you’ve been inundated with. However, there’s more to pregnancy than just horror stories. There are some genuinely awesome things about being pregnant that you just don’t anticipate until it happens for the first time and I totally believe in counting my blessings and living in the moment (even if it’s easier said than done sometimes)!

So in the spirit of celebrating a new week of pregnancy (yep – we’re into the 32nd week!), I shall list some of the things I’ve really enjoyed :)

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Support Networks – Feeling the Love

Throughout this journey I’ve really learnt that there are so many more people there for me, thinking of me and cheering me on than I could ever have imagined. Through the good times and the not so glamourous times, I have learnt that all I have to do is be honest about how I’m feeling and people really do pull through for you. Text messages on down days, lunch dates with people I haven’t seen in ages and thoughtful gestures really show me that not only should I not be afraid to reach out when things feel really difficult, but that I am so lucky my baby is coming into this world where he will be so loved.

I’ve had enormous family support, have been sent thoughtful gifts (you know who you are, ladies and I love you so much for it) and have had my ego absolutely caressed with compliments on how beautiful I look pregnant, even when I’m waddling about, have bad skin and strange improvised maternity outfits. It is just mindblowing.

I have also been blessed with good advice from friends who are new mums (not unsolicited – very welcome and realistic!) and I have been considered in so many social situations where I didn’t expect any special treatment.

Letting the Creative Juices Flow

I have really loved organising the nursery. Thinking of colours and themes. Getting furniture ideas and being able to put it all together. I have loved choosing little baby outfits (cluck cluck cluck) that are unusual, adorable and colourful! It’s not often I give myself an excuse to just do what I feel and make things pretty around the house. Usually, there are excuses holding me back like lack of funds or not enough time. During this pregnancy, I feel like I don’t need an excuse! In fact, I am pretty much obligated to do all this stuff and I LOVE it! It’s inspired me to try to beautify the rest of my house also. I want this place to feel as much like a sanctuary as possible, so it keeps me sane and peaceful when there’s chaos and lack of sleep in a couple of months! If I can’t do those nice things around the place now, when will I feel like I deserve to do them? :)

No time like the present!

Kicks, Stretches and Impromptu Dance Parties

Pic: This photo looks freaky but it’s also kind of amazing

There’s nothing more reassuring and smile-inducing than feeling the baby move inside me! Sure, there are times when it’s not so comfortable (a baby limb in the ribs, pressure on the bladder or crazy movements when you’re trying to sleep), but on the whole I wouldn’t trade feeling him conducting impromptu dance parties for the world! THERE’S A TINY, LOVEABLE HUMAN IN THERE!!!

Sometimes the best moments are sitting on the couch watching TV after dinner. My stomach will lurch all over the place (yes – you can totally see all the amusing movements from the outside – even through multiple layers of clothing) like the baby is having a little bit of a party in there. It’s hilarious and I love when my husband gets to see it happen! Sometimes he (the baby – not my husband) sticks what I can only imagine is a hand or foot or elbow or knee out. I can actually feel it hard against my skin! It makes me feel like we’re playing some kind of silly game with each other and it has me grinning from ear to ear :D

Kind Looks from Strangers and Better Customer Service

It’s amazing how nice people are to a pregnant lady. I’ve always heard horror stories about unsolicited advice from strangers, being groped inappropriately everywhere from the boobs to the belly button and being asked over the top personal questions.

None of these things have happened to me. I could count on less than one hand the amount of times someone has completely disregarded the fact that I am pregnant and in need of consideration:

1. The time a horrible lady pushed in front of me at the newsagents’ and pushed her trolley into my bump without noticing or apologising.
2. The time we were leaving an AFL football game and people were smoking in my face and pushing up against me in the crowd, causing me to almost fall forwards. I don’t get crowds sometimes. They weren’t going to get anywhere any faster!

Other than that, I have been offered a seat when I have looked tired. I have been given knowing, empathic smiles by kind strangers when I waddle about and men have really surprised me. The older types of guys who would either have ogled at me and made me feel slimy and uncomfortable in the past, or who I would have expected grief from just look at me gooey eyed in a completely innocuous way. I guess the possibility of a new life softens people! Also, I’m not really a sex object at the moment on account of the bump which says “TAKEN AND COMMITTED” (not such a bad thing)! Well, unless you read the dodgy ads in the local trading post…

Not Worrying About Looking Skinny in my Clothes

I love that I can wear things I wouldn’t have had the courage to wear when I wasn’t pregnant. Fitted maxi dresses that would have shown off my belly pudge? Can wear now, albeit a couple sizes bigger to accommodate the bump! Any worries I had about my stomach showing through clothing is now not an issue! In fact, it’s nicer to emphasise the bump so people don’t just think I ate a few too many burgers!

I have learnt to stop stressing about how “fat” I look. It just seems silly now, doesn’t it? I just like that my body is doing what it is supposed to. Doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to working out properly once the baby is here (and once the doctors give the go ahead etc), but for now I just feel like this is all for a reason and it’s kind of cool seeing a bump. I like my bump! Although I will be anxious to get back in shape later in the piece, I don’t think I will look at my body so negatively again (famous last words but that’s how I feel right now and I hope I’m right).

Also, on another note I have started to get stretchmarks at the base of my bump. I was preventing them really well with oils and natural creams at the beginning of my pregnancy, but the rash interrupted my ability to use a lot of the really good products for that kind of thing. I love that I look at those marks and don’t even care. So bloody what? A few weeks ago I was covered neck to knee in a terrible rash and I have seen my skin at its worst. Those marks are nothing and although it will take time, I am confident that after my pregnancy they will fade with a bit of TLC. I would say to all the girls out there who are terrified of them: it’s not that bad. It really isn’t. There is so much worse stuff that can happen to you, your skin or the baby. Be thankful if that’s the worst you get. Genuinely thankful. I don’t say that bitterly at all. I think this experience has made me wiser and certainly less vain!

Life is Never Boring Anymore

Sure, this can mean taking the good with the bad, but I kind of like that I have new symptoms each week. Just when you think you’ve experienced them all, something new is going on with the baby. I love reading up on what he’s doing inside me each week and it makes me feel connected to him. While it can be hard for the control freak in me, when I can just let go and appreciate each new crazy moment, I feel like life is really interesting! I can be outwardly appear to be doing jack sh*t but the baby is so busy in there all the time growing up a storm!

I can sometimes worry that I am so totally consumed by the whole ‘being pregnant’ experience, both mentally and physically, but I guess I just want to feel everything. Sure, I get impatient and I do look forward to not having worries about a rash flare up or a blood sugar level spike, but I like the actual “there’s a freakin’ baby in there” feelings :)

There’s always something new to prepare for, buy, plan, feel. It’s crazy!

Overcoming Fears

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I used to be scared to go to the doctor. I used to feel like I was going to be treated by some patronising, smug a**hole (usually was) so I would dread it, even when I knew I should get something checked out. I avoided routine tests I probably should have had and I would agonise over it all.

Now I am at the doctor’s all the frickin’ time! It gets tedious but I am no longer scared about what it would feel like to have my blood taken. I’ve had so much blood taken and tested for scary things now that I just face it and get on with it. I am also amazing at peeing in a cup and not being embarrassed. Much. I am supposed to bring a “sample” every time I see the doc (which is now fortnightly). I never know when to pull it out of my bag…do I present it to him before we even say hello or do I wait until he asks if I brought one? I usually wait…awkward.

All of this stuff is about so much more than me now that I am forced to get over myself. I am even thinking about becoming a blood donor after all this stuff is finished. I am no longer afraid to have a needle stuck in my arm and I also know that I won’t necessarily pass out or get sick if they take a lot of my red stuff, which I always feared. I like this whole ‘becoming a better person’ thing. I feel less selfish and more proactive about my health.

A Stronger Appreciation for Life

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I have always considered myself to be quite a positive person. I may have suffered a few blows to my upbeat demeanour in recent times, but I have always taken to counting my blessings when things have challenged me (even if I did it while feeling p*ssed off and not quite believing myself)! However, now I realise more than ever that every moment is precious. I reminisce about my own pretty awesome and fortunate childhood and those memories feel like gifts I was given each day. I want my own child/ren to know these gifts. To look back and have these memories. I want to look back on my pregnancies and first days/months/years with my baby and feel like I did something positive whenever I could. Something that would help create those kinds of memories.

My biggest motto these days is “LIVE IN THE MOMENT”. Don’t just let things pass me by. It would be easy to get tunnel vision, to block out the scenery. To not feel a special moment or give it the celebration it deserves. I am determined to appreciate everything I have in my life. I don’t want to be lost in failings of the past or be so obsessed with planning the future that I realise I haven’t stopped to smell the roses and actually lived.

Everything I do now will influence my new little family. I want to be really present and I want to be an inspiration.

So, that’s what I like about being pregnant.

xo

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I can’t sing (not for lack of trying) but I have a damn good life.

OK, so there’s this kid from Korea who made worldwide headlines when he auditioned on Korea’s Got Talent (I didn’t even know they had a Korean version until this incident). It’s one of those feel good stories where a young man who was orphaned at three years old, living on the streets by himself after being beaten and abused in an orphanage, discovered his passion for singing and somehow wound up on a televised talent show (making all the judges and the audience cry their eyes out).

Check the video out below (I know you’re a busy person and all but it’s totally worth it):

So now that you’ve wiped your eyes and snotted into your Kleenex (or is that just me?), I’ll tell you why that video struck such a chord with me…

I am an adoptee from Korea. I was a lucky one. Despite being given up at birth (by all accounts my biological mother committed the socially unacceptable sin of falling pregnant outside of wedlock), spending a brief time in an orphanage and being placed with a big, jolly looking foster mother (who fed me all sorts of naughty treats until I looked like the Michelin Man), I was one of the lucky ones.

At five months old, I arrived in Australia to be placed in the arms of the Best Parents Ever. I have lived a fantastic life, with a roof over my head, three meals a day (well – except for the times I couldn’t be convinced to eat breakfast) and all the love, support and resources a child could ever want or need. I have plenty of friends, social networks and a great education behind me. I am healthy and I am happy. The world is now my oyster because of events that unfolded roughly 27 years ago. Well, I can’t sing very well, but I make up for lack of talent with unbridled enthusiasm (usually in the car).

This video reminded me that not all orphans (or abandoned children) from Korea or other places around the world are so lucky. I realised as I wiped a tear from my eye, that with a terrible stroke of bad fortune, that boy could have just as easily been me, my brother or any of my adopted friends. How blessed I am.

There are some people (even within the government) who believe that taking a child out of their country/culture of origin is harmful and damaging. I say only if it’s done wrong. Would I trade everything I have to live the life of that Korean boy? Quite bluntly, hell no! Would he have traded his life on the streets or in an orphanage for unconditional love and a family of his own in another country? I don’t want to speak for him, but I think I can guess what his answer might have been…

It’s not always easy. Sometimes you feel too white for the Asian communities, but everyone thinks you’re too Asian to be a “proper” Aussie (whatever the hell that is). There are issues to contend with such as racism, constant misconceptions about your “culture” based on your appearance, and awful stereotypes to contend with. There are feelings of abandonment (by your biological parents), constant intrusive questions from strangers and the feeling that you’re somewhat of a sideshow attraction when you just want to blend in.

However, we all face issues like this (adopted or not) in life and with the right love and support, we can overcome them and see just how strong we are. All of that is nothing compared to living on the streets with no-one there to love you every single day.

Of course, I had to share the video with my mum. Predictably, she cried. She then sent me a mushy email back. And then I cried again – happy tears of course :)

As I face impending motherhood, I feel so blessed to be able to bring a baby into the world who I can provide with love, support and a safe home. My biological mother couldn’t do that for me, but I can change the destiny of my biological family tree and if I hadn’t been adopted, I may not have had the same opportunities in life allowing me to do this. I can’t wait to look into the eyes of a little version of me and my husband. This child will be my first biological relative – the first one who will be in my life for me to love and grow with every day. No matter what happens, I will never ever abandon him/her.

And the fact that I will have all of my beloved Chosen (and very “REAL”) Family with me to share in this experience is even more special.

Now excuse me while I go and bawl a little.

xo