what a relief to be past the first trimester.  i felt like a blubbery lumbering bear ready for hibernation...except there's no hibernation.  ack.  the fatigue was suffocating.  it makes me look back with gratitude at the ease of my first pregnancy.  i don't have the motivation nor energy to walk a couple miles, let alone do a marathon like i did with marcus when he was but a wee 12 week old fetus swinging on an umbilical cord.  incredible how different each pregnancy can be.  i'm secretly hoping that the pregnancy and state of the mother reflects what the child will be like... as in, maybe this second one will be incredibly lazy and unmotivated. well, life goes on, marcus wants to play, work demands your all, and there will be no hibernation for this blubbery lumbering yolanda. 
i still can't get over how well my son is walking.  it really throws me off.  i feel like i'm dealing with a toddler, but i have to remind myself that he is still less than a year old and there are some things he still probably doesn't grasp. like gravity and depth perception as he hurtles himself off stairs and sofas.  marcus is entropy with two legs.  i follow him around trying to recreate order as he leaves behind a trail of chaos.  as my belly gets bigger, i am realizing i just can't keep up.  just give it up already.  he is kicking my booty.  he wins.  fine, take the stupid remote control.  fine, here's my keys.  whatever it takes for a break from the wrestling, right?  my back is beginning to feel it, and i'm only at week 16.  this doesn't bode well for the remaining weeks yet to come. 
at least parenting has felt more rewarding lately.  it is fascinating and thrilling to watch marcus discover new concepts and experiment with everything he comes across.  i watch him, amazed and inspired by his curiosity.  what if i lived my life with that kind of avid curiosity, instead of my dull jaded apathetic adult mindset?  i can literally see these "a-ha" moments when something clicks and he just gets it.  and even though it's exhausting, i do feel privileged that he wants me to share in those moments alongside him.
i am not the gushing bubbly type.  i am rather matter-of-fact and, for the most part, practical.  (kelvin might disagree with the practical part, but this is my blog so i can say whatever i want.)  i rarely have moments when i feel like gushing about how much i love marcus and how wonderful it is being a parent.  yes i do love marcus, and probably more than i can fathom myself.  but i can't get around the fact that, well, it really just doesn't seem that wonderful being a parent when it comes down to it on a daily basis.  i mean, hello, there are a lot of things i enjoy doing that i can't.  and even if marcus is worth it and then some, it still doesn't change the fact that i miss my freedom and the things i personally enjoy.  it's not like a chunk of me miraculously disappears once motherhood swoops in.  and life with the hubby was pretty darn good before baby.  i really enjoy my hubby.  he's the love of my life.  i'm still madly in love with him.  a baby certainly doesn't take the place of that.  i can't help but miss my time with him, even though we technically see each other as much as before.  so there remains this ongoing tension i can't get rid of.  it's a weird feeling -- to adore and love my child, to embrace and treasure motherhood, and yet at the same time feel this constant mourning that still tickles the back of my mind.  it's a nagging sense of loss, when ironically i have actually gained.  maybe it's just plain selfishness.  maybe it's just my own adult version of separation anxiety.  maybe it's just a bad combination of post-partum hormones in addition to pregnancy hormones.  double whammy! whatever it is, it's a weird place to be.  i hope it keeps getting better.  i'm counting on it.  

i love mangoes.  i can make a whole meal out of just eating mangoes.  i discovered these ginormous beauties at the local vietnamese market.  i have never had any luck with mangoes from american supermarkets.  they're alright, but they never blow me away.  not the same intoxicating scent that fills my head or the luscious creamy sweetness that practically melts in my mouth.  nope.  i stick to the mangoes from asian markets.  i don't know what the difference is, but they just ripen better.
when i saw the size of these mangoes, i was skeptical that the entire fruit was actually fruit.  surely the seed must be extra large as well.  but to my delight, the seed was but a slender sliver, easy to suck and gnaw on to ensure that no bits go to waste. 

marcus apparently loved the mango scent as well.  from the moment i made the first cut and the juices started covering the cutting board, marcus became so fixated on the fruit.  for anyone who knows marcus, it takes a lot to get him to focus on something for long.  now, this fruit was initially intended for my eating pleasure.  it soon became all to clear that i would need to practice and model the art of sharing.  (grumble grumble)  nevertheless, i should get the first bite at least . 
i sat next to marcus and rammed an enormous piece into my mouth.  i sat back and closed my eyes.  by now, marcus is absolutely whining and reaching for a piece.  being the negligent mother that i am, i have no problems with tuning it out for the next 10 seconds as i chew and enjoy every nuance of flavor that was exploding in my mouth.  i was transported to a white sand beach and the sound of ocean waves lapping at my feet, my handsome hubby by my side holding my hand, sipping a perfectly frosty margarita, with no baby around for miles and miles.  the breeze cools the searing heat of the sun on my shoulders.  my toes wiggle themselves deeper into the fine sand.  ahhhhh...
ok, yeah right.  back to reality.  fine, so i let marcus have some of my mango.  he loved it so ridiculously much that he ended up eating practically half of it, grunting like a mad monkey if there was even a few seconds delay between each bite.  he's hardly done chewing on one piece before he opens his little beak begging for more.  i don't think he's even bothering to chew at the rate he's eating this mango.  thankfully these mangoes were seriously ginormous.  it makes sharing a lot less heart-wrenching.

i'm sitting here listening to baby einstein's rendition of beethoven and wondering if the poor man is turning in his grave.  leave it to baby einstein to take the dark turbulence of some of beethoven's masterpieces and turn it into happy disney-esque music.  it's nice for baby i'm sure, but i can only listen to so much of the xylophone in one sitting.  give me depressing angry adult beethoven over whimsical baby beethoven anytime.

thankfully marcus is down for a nap.  how long it will last, who knows.  but it's like a breath of fresh air every time he finally naps.  i feel like my thoughts finally have a chance to come through clearly and i can just enjoy the quiet.  i feel so badly that my tolerance for noise is so low.  a high threshold for noise pollution is almost a requirement in patient parenting.  the other day, i came home from work especially intolerant and impatient.  there were so many crying babies and temper tantrums and kids with behavioral issues that afternoon, i returned home spent and craving silence.  ofcourse, marcus is not a silent sort of child, as anyone who knows him would agree.  there's this urge that starts welling up in me to shout "shut up" -- it's a draining thing to repress.  i should just go to the bathroom, close the door, and yell "shut up" to myself.  i should just have a tantrum myself i suppose.  i keep reminding myself how much i value the curiosity, determination, and awareness that marcus demonstrates.  these are excellent attributes that i want to encourage.  but with that curiosity and determination, it is obvious the wheels in his head are turning and he knows very clearly what he wants.  unfortunately it will be quite some time before he is able to express his thoughts well, and in the meantime, the dramatic tantrums continue to escalate.  i feel for the kid. it must be awful not being understood.  but i also feel for myself -- why can't you just hang out and sit there like so many other babies your age??

kelvin and i are in our low 30's.  i still feel so young, and yet we're now entering that strange stage in life where we are sandwiched between a child who is dependent on us and parents who will become more vulnerable as they get older.  it's a sobering realization as i recognize the fragility of both ends, and even of ourselves.  unfortunately it makes me worry about money more.  it's one thing to be thrifty, which i think is important and wise.  but to worry excessively about money isn't healthy.  it reveals my lack of trust in God's way of providing what i need, and points to a subtle but dangerous belief that money will solve everything.   i hate this feeling and i hate how it's affecting my attitude and perspective.  i hate that is makes me doubt my decision to work in a community clinic and to work part-time.  i hate that it disconnects me from the things i truly value and instead distracts me with superficial desires that will not result in any lasting joy.  the funny thing about money is this -- there is never enough and it is an empty promise.  the expectations and wants only multiply.  ask me 10 years ago about how i'd feel about my life currently, and i would have been ecstatic.  no complaints or grumbles whatsoever.  but here i am grumbling.  nevertheless, as much as i tell myself these things, it is a daily struggle and it is never easy.  that's just the truth of it.  thankfully i have a husband and people in my life to keep pointing me back to what i believe and value, even if it feels like a daily emotional pendulum.  ultimately i know all these emotions and worries are partly due to fatigue and hormones.  i am hoping those factors are temporary and i will be able to think and feel more clearly with time.