In an effort to clean up my language and get back into the good graces of the DDR Police, I’m going to try really really hard to be 2-legit-2-quit over here. (Or at least curse in code.)

My last post was over a month ago but I feel like I’ve been gone for twelve years. I followed the VT shootings on TV while I packed box after box, anxious to get back to everyone’s blogs, mourn for these victims, commiserate with fellow Koreans/Asians about the shooter’s background. I can’t even comment on that right now because it’s an entire blog in and of itself, plus I’m late on the news and won’t have much to add that hasn’t already been said anyway. But, I still have to add my condolences to all of those who lost loved ones and to the rest of us who didn’t, but mourn with you. I am deeply saddened for what those victims had to go through, what VT has gone through, and for all the families and friends involved. Truly, the courage and unity shown in the aftermath was inspirational.

Now in the worst and most awkward segue, I’ll move on to much lighter, much less-important crap about what we’ve been up to on my blog hiatus. I apologize for not making a smoother transition:

Sofaking Confused
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Before we moved, we took the kids and spent a night in Boston. First we took the kids to the MFA, where they recognized Degas paintings and a huge portrait of George Washington. A woman turned, surprised, to look at Buddy after he said, “Look Dad, it’s John Adams! Hey, where’s Thomas Jefferson?” (This is the kind of trivial crap we teach our kids strictly to entertain ourselves because they are, in fact, put on this earth solely to entertain us, you know.) While we walked down Comm Ave, Buddy kept telling us he wanted to go to Boston.

“[Buddy], we’re in Boston.”
“No, I want to go to Boston!”

We had no idea what he was talking about so after a minute of debating, we gave up. Later, his eyes lit up as he noticed some larger buildings in the distance.

“Wow! Look at all the Bostons!”
Oh shit. We’ve been living in the suburbs too long. He thought city buildings were called Bostons. Get this kid to a city, STAT.

Sofaking Tired
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Luckily, we did just that. After packing for two weeks straight (I don’t exaggerate when I say we packed morning to night while making our raggedy kids entertain themselves with empty boxes) and shutting ourselves off from the world, the movers came, picked up our stuff, and we headed west. Well, first we headed south to NY to visit my family. Then we headed north to upstate NY (or what we southern NYers refer to as Canada) to visit G’s family. Then we drove to Ohio to stay with friends of family. And finally, we made it here.

Sofaking Anti-Racist
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First order of business: get these kids into school for the fall. We are way too late getting our kids into a pre-K program in most schools. However, there’s an excellent program near our house, and I’ve been trying like mad to get the kids into it for September. The most fascinating and mind-boggling thing to me in this experience has been the little bit of extra attention I’ve/we’ve received due to our race. Shocking. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I knew some schools were looking for diversity, but because I’ve only really experienced the opposite (subtle but less attention due to my race), it’s a little bit shocking. Who knew that just showing my face would be such a positive thing? Seriously. Not used to it. Not sure what to do with it.

Sofaking Gentile (or Koreantile?)
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Second order of business: get these kids into camp. Mama needs a break. We enrolled them in the JCC Summer Camp program. Awesome. If you haven’t read about the theories of Jewish-Korean linkage, do so here.

Sofaking Not Ready for That Talk
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Our new place has been a chaotic mess. At one point, I had some pantiliners lying who-the-hell-knows where. G told me that Bean came up to him one day, holding one.

“Daddy, what’s this?”
“Ummm… that’s Mommy’s. Can you put it back please?”
“Daddy, is it for cleaning? Like this? I clean like this?” And she pretended to wipe something down with it.
“Uh… sure [Bean]. Can you put it back now please?”

Sofaking Embarrassing
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Until we get our bearings here, we’ve decided to rent for now (plus we still have a mortgage to pay until we sell our house). We have a lovely apartment near the lake. We also live on the floor above our very nice landlords, who are sensitive to noise and who warned us (indirectly through their broker) that they didn’t want noisy people living above them. They were somehow all right with us living here, kids and all, and after looking at some very disgusting fraternity-level apartments around the city, we jumped at this place.

The apartment has a very long hallway that just begs to be sprinted down, and it’s an effort in restraint with two three-year-olds. To assuage their temptation, we tell them that our landlords are sleeping downstairs. And that’s all they do. All day. Constantly. Sleep. Nap. Then sleep some more. They are very, very tired people. One day, G took the kids out for a walk. On the way out, they saw our landlord. Buddy, surprised upon seeing him, pointed and excitedly said, “Look! [M]’s awake!!”

Sofaking Restrained…
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Along the same lines, shortly after we first moved in, Buddy walked down the hall slowly with his hands in his pockets talking to himself: “No running. No jumping. No hopping. No stomping…” These poor kids.

… But Not
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However, we are within two blocks of two playgrounds, a library, too many restaurants, too many drugstores, many modes of transportation, and the lake. So we have a lot of running around to do outside. And we are loving every minute of it. The twins constantly tell us that they “love our new house.” Joy. Success. Relief.

Sofaking Experiment-Gone-Bad
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In Boston, they had their own rooms. That’s because at four months old, they were constantly waking each other up while I was constantly ripping my hair out (although it didn’t need much help at that time—did anyone else have chunks of hair falling out? Another thing other moms don’t share with you *grumble grumble*). So once we got here, we decided to let them share a room. Bad idea. We’ve since learned that Bean will do anything to try and get Buddy to laugh. …Or cry. Whichever mood they’re in. And she will do it Lionel Richie style: All Night Long.

Sofaking Nice
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Midwesterners are some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met. Period.

Sofaking Pissed
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I’m still navigating the policies and politics of playground etiquette. I’m not sure if it’s because the twins are older and running with a different crowd/age group now but at times, I’m at a loss. At what point do you step in if the parent/caretaker is not paying attention to their child and try and assist-parent in the least obtrusive way possible? I don’t helicopter my kids; God knows with two, I can’t anyway. But if I see one of them not waiting their turn or potentially about to run over a smaller kid, I’ll go over and tell them they need to wait, or be considerate of the other kids around them. They’re kids of course, but they have to learn somehow, right?

Last week, a little girl had bubbles at the playground that she was blowing in Bean and Buddy’s faces. The twins happily started chasing the bubbles and popping them, at which point, the little girl yelled at them to STOP! They were HER bubbles! I looked at her caretaker (grandmother? nanny? I’m not sure) only five feet away, who was busy looking in a bag. So I asked the little girl if she wouldn’t mind sharing her bubbles, after all, she was blowing them RIGHT IN THEIR FACES. (Okay, I didn’t say that last part.) To which she adamantly answered, NO. They were HER bubbles.

The twins were frozen, uncertain how to proceed. So, I gently guided them to the other side of the playground and explained to them that the bubbles were the girl’s, and she didn’t want to share them right now. They hesitated for a second, then accepted it and slowly walked away. Then I suggested to the girl, as nicely as I could muster, that perhaps if she wanted to play with her bubbles and didn’t want anyone to pop them, that she could blow them elsewhere.

Honestly, I wasn’t upset with her—I realize she’s just a little girl—but I was sofaking pissed with her caretaker. Are you f’ing kidding me? You’re going to bring bubbles to the playground and expect other kids NOT to run after them and try and pop them?

Snickollet asked others what they thought about kids sharing… I understand under certain circumstances, it’s difficult for some kids to share. But if that’s the case, it’s perfectly acceptable to explain the situation. If the reason is solely that your child doesn’t like to share—I’m sorry, but what kid does? Shit, I don’t like to share sometimes!

In any case, this girl was perfectly pleasant up until she brought out the bubbles so I don’t think she had any problems with other kids or people. We were talking to her and having a normal conversation. And—go figure—we saw her again a few days later, and the twins played with her the entire time we were there. She and Bean bonded over their identical Dora sunglasses. And she was very sweet the second time around. But woman-who-was-with-that-little-girl: Listen up! Kids don’t learn to share unless they are taught. So please, get your act together. Or, don’t bring the damn bubbles to the playground.

(Sidenote: How am I doing with the cursing? Nah… I didn’t think I’d get far either.)

Sofaking Proud (and Sofaking Scared too)
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While I’ve been blog-MIA, the twins had a birthday. A very lame birthday by some standards, but figuring this is probably the last year we can get away with lame birthdays, we took advantage. And, they were perfectly content just going out to dinner and having some chocolate cake that got them so wired I felt like I had just provided drugs to my kids. They were in a different state of mind, I tell you.

All in all it’s been a good year for us. I’m so proud of our kids. They are well-behaved, well-mannered, sweet and empathetic, considerate and funny, reasonable and (in my obviously biased opinion) smart kids—all at the ripe age of three. Buddy’s laugh is contagious. Bean’s energy is exhilarating. I love these kids and sometimes I can’t believe they are my kids. A few days ago, I caught them hugging and saying to each other, “Oh I love you SO MUCH!”

Then again, a few days later I caught them—I suppose—wrestling and laughing, but in fact it looked like Buddy was humping Bean. Therapy, I tell you. Therapy for all of us. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for this parenting gig. Dude. It was messed up. For reals.

And… back to Sofaking Confused
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The other day, Buddy looked out the window on a foggy day, frowned and said, “I don’t see any Bostons in Chicago, Mommy. Oh no! Where did the Bostons go?”

Sofaking Back
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Psyched to be here in Chicago, and psyched to be back to the land of blogging. Hope you all have been fantastic.

See you around the water cooler.

(Here are some pictures that the kids took with their sweet new cameras they got from Uncle A and Aunt B for their birthday. The first day they got them, Bean slid into the room on one knee, click-click-clicked, then got up and ran out. Paparazzi-in-training. You’ll see that feet and socks are a mild obsession around here, as are commercialized toys.)