Today was the Worst Day in Parenting

My son is now 7 months old. He is the absolute light of my life and a complete joy. He is learning, growing, and it’s a wonder to watch it all first hand.

But today was the worst day, and it’s broken me.

It started off with waking up at 5 AM, screaming his lungs out. DH fed him and tried to get him back down, I had to take over so DH can go to work. It took me 40 minutes of putting him down and picking him back up at the moment he realized that he was being put down.

He would instantly scream and cry. Zero to 60, purple crying, wailing, tears flowing.

Eventually I got him back down and he slept until 7:30. Another 40 minutes to myself.

Since then, it has completely gone down hill. Every attempt to get him to nap has led to +40 minutes of effort and a 10 to 30 minute nap. I was upstairs earlier and tried for 20 minutes and he just completely refused.

Screeching, crying, twisting, turning, and trying to stare at a fucking ceiling fan. We did not install this in the home, it came this way. But I know the previous owners installed it. I was ready to get a ladder and a hammer and just knock it down. LO kept twisting and turning, trying to look at the fan.

At that fucking fan.

I lost it twice. I broke down crying as I held him and finally just put him in the crib as he cried. I walked away, sobbing hysterically in the kitchen. I am so tired, so broken down, so exhausted of trying to do multiple things at once.

I still work full-time. Yes, I still work full-time at an office job that I am doing remotely. I somehow find time to seem like I am working, so even though I am split a million different directions my work doesn’t notice or mind. But to even manage a decent facade, I work from 7 AM to 5 PM from Monday to Friday.

But today was completely shot. If I wasn’t holding LO or at least sitting with him while he played, he would have a meltdown. He wouldn’t sleep, he keeps twisting, fussing, and just crying.

I don’t even want to talk anymore. A lovely side effect of my periods, after giving birth, is that I vomit. That’s right, apparently it happens to a small group of women. Basically, during labor you get hit with a lot of prostaglandin. So much so that you vomit. It’s very common to puke your guts out, especially when the baby is very close.

Well, I never threw up before on my period, but now I do. I am constantly queasy, especially when I am having serious cramps. So due to the nausea, I haven’t eaten since 7 AM. I’ve been up since 5:30 AM and haven’t eaten since 7.

My mom is supposed to be here with me, right now, to help me with all of this. She comes a week every month or two to just give me a hand. She loves her grandson and always says she enjoys her visits.

But my sister is about 9 weeks pregnant and also has HG. She moved back in with my parents so my mom can feed her and wait on her, hand and foot. When I had HG, no one came to visit me. No one brought me food. No one sent me any care packages. My sister didn’t even check in with me.

I still had to work, look after myself, and look after my home (as best as I could).

But my sister has HG, so she took a leave from work (she filed for disability), moved back in, won’t shower, and demanded that my mom not stay here for a week to help me with the baby.

By the way, she can still eat plenty of things. I couldn’t eat anything. I couldn’t drink water so I wound up in the ER with two bags of fluids pumped into me. She is able to eat eggs, sweets (lots of chocolate), cheese, bread, chicken, etc. If you offered any of those to me, but the bread, when I had HG I would have vomited in your face.

But here I am. Alone, even though help was supposed to come. I’m okay with it, I’m just bitter that my sister is being such a giant baby when there is an actual baby here that needs far more attention than her.

What I am upset about is that today just made me feel like I can’t do this. I am not cut out to be a mother. I don’t have 24 hours of wake time, eight arms, and be in two places at once.

You need those things to be a good mom, a good employee, and a good partner. I am none of those things right now, and I just want to have another good hysterical sob.

America, If You Want The Next Generation, Then Start Changing Things

The average age of parenthood is rising. For example, in San Francisco, the average age of first-time mothers is 33.4 years-old if they are married and have a college education.

In my parents’ lifetime, that number was around 26/27 years-old.

Now, more and more people in their late 20’s and 30’s are having one or two children, at most. When our parents’ generation easily had three.

Above all, many young couples are choosing not to have children at all.

The reason for all of these changes is the same: it’s harder and harder to afford a family.

I’m a “young” mother, as I had my first (and most likely only) child when I entered my 30’s. I have heard from multiple older people, like in the baby boomer generation, that I am having a kid “backwards” and that I should have waited until we were “ready.”

Ready as in, had a 3 to 4 bedroom home, household income is at least $150,000/year, and over $100,000 in savings.

While they might have achieved this in their mid to late 20’s, most people my age don’t even come close to this. On top of that, childcare can cost $50,000 a year depending on your location and the quality of the care.

In the Bay Area, a family of four living on $100,000/year is considered to be in poverty. Analysis says that a family of four cannot survive on $100,000/year.

So should we just wait until we have “enough” money? Maybe that’s why we have so many older parents, older parents who need to spend a fortune to conceive and if they’re lucky they have one child.

Does Corporate America not see where this is going?

Sky-high child care, no mandatory paid family leave, and the cost of housing is rapidly outstripping our earning potential.

Why bother having a kid? Work hard and spend the money on yourself. Travel, buy yourself nice things, eat delicious food, and adore a pet or two. Why should you have a kid? The cost is outrageous, we are using too many resources, and now school shootings are so normal that “thoughts and prayers” become an automated response.

The reason we have children is as old as humankind. We need the next generation to take our place. To fill the workforce, to be productive members of society, to continue to take care of the world we gave them.

Albeit, it’s a really shitty world.

I have some guilt over having a child, in the sense that: what world am I bringing him into? Shouldn’t I have just adopted an unwanted child and given them the chance to have a beautiful life? Why do I need to add life, when we have so many lives that are cast aside and unwanted?

My maternity leave was non-existent. I had to ask my state to pay me for the two weeks I took off. When I mentioned to my eye doctor that I was taking two weeks off, she scoffed and said I should take more. Yes, but not all of us are medical professionals who get complete maternity coverage or can AFFORD to take 6 months off.

In my birthing classes, half of the women said they had to return withint 5 days or they would lose their job. They don’t have protection due to their employer not qualifying for it. They are part-time, hourly workers, and they either work or get nothing at all.

I was yelled at by a superior, who is also a mom (older mom, divorced with one son), when I told her I am not ready to return to my middle of the night meetings. Meetings that are pointless, like almost all meetings, and meetings that she shaped so she can be with her son.

She told me that I need to try harder and that my husband should “try to parent”. I lost my fucking shit.

She has no sympathy, and it’s all about what fits her needs. She asked me why can’t I afford child care. I point blank told her it’s because the company doesn’t pay me a living wage. My salary does not reflect cost of living, at all. She didn’t say anything.

Just yell at me instead. Don’t offer any more money or be understanding. Be part of the problem.

The dumbest part of the conversation was when she claimed she didn’t know that my son was only 2 1/2 months old. She thought he was older. Given that they all knew I started maternity leave the MOMENT he was born (I was literally typing my email to announce the start of my leave while I was in labor), I was shocked that she’s that much of a moron and didn’t realize only 2 1/2 months have passed.

For some reason, she claims, she thought he was at least 8 months old.

So not only do I work for a fucking moron, I also work for someone who is morally bankrupt.

But hey, we all do.

This is why people in my generation are abandoning parenthood. This is why we have no loyalty or dedication to our employers. We might love our work, but we hate who we work for.

The older generation is shocked and perplexed. They don’t understand why their children are still living at home. “They must not want it enough.”

We do. But you don’t want to give it to us. So this is what we do. Do whatever work we can to survive and at the end of the day, we owe you nothing at all.

Then we spend what little time and money we have on pursuing happiness, however we can find it.

They mock and laugh at us, but this is the hell they created. We are just stuck living in it.

Some Kind of Stranger

My brother has always been this looming figure in my life. As far as I could remember, he had a temper. He would lash out, verbally, sometimes physically, and he seemed to just seethe with rage and irritation in every pore.

Growing up, my parents had a terrible marriage and my father was never around because he worked too much. He would tell my brother, from age 10 and on, that he would need to be the man of the house if my dad suddenly died.

He had a lot of expectations for his greatness, and for the most part my brother seemed to thrive on it. He was the best in school, tested as a genius with a 157 IQ, and was always talking about how much money he will make and all of the things he will do.

To me and my sister, he was the babadook that lived across the hall. I was terrified of him. Only after therapy and growing up did I realize the worst thing he could do was hurt me physically. My wounds would heal, and I would have a valid reason to never speak to him again.

When I found out I was having a son, I began to panic. I asked my husband if he thought those genes for violence and aggression would be in our son. My brother used to hunt birds and small, non-invasive animals for fun. He would chase us with BB guns and throw dirt clods at us until we bled. He used to turn off all the lights in the house and make us hide. If he found us, he would empty his BB gun clip into us as we screamed in the corner.

My husband assured me that our son won’t be like this. We wouldn’t let him, he would say.

My parents did try, but they grew up in a generation where saying “I love you” was unheard of. You only said that if someone was on their deathbed. My father never hit us, but he was regularly beaten with a broomstick. My mom remembers seeing her neighbor’s wives walk around with bruised, swollen faces because they were beaten by their husbands. No one ever offered to help them and they just looked away.

My parents hated each other, but never hit each other. I know my dad would never do that.

But for some reason, my brother viewed hitting and kicking his sisters as an acceptable way to express himself. He did it so my parents never knew. He never left a mark. Just enough to terrorize us and leave me afraid of men for a very long time.

My brother did get married. He spent time in the military, went through college, and is now married to a person who is just as strange as him. She hates her family. She hates her parents and says they were abusive to her. From what we can gather, the abuse was just pushing her to do well in school and being indifferent to her passions like yoga. They never hit her, just laughed when she would talk about the spiritual healing of a mandala. (I wish I was joking.)

Together, they both drifted away from the family even more. My brother has his new family. Now, my parents are just an inconvenience. When my parents and sister expressed such joy over having my son in the family, my brother said he didn’t get why there was so much fuss “over a baby.” He self-proclaims to want 4 children, only boys and no girls, and his wife admitted she doesn’t want to have any kids.

He told my parents he will be “interested” in my son when he can walk and talk. Then he will come and take him camping and hiking. My parents were shocked and told him that he can just show up when he wants and take my child. He didn’t see the problem with that.

I am now at a point in my life, we all are (it seems), where I don’t want him in my life. He is completely self-interested. Anything that isn’t what he wants to do right then and there is chore and something he will openly say he is hating and doesn’t want to do.

He yelled at me on my wedding day.

He said the fact that I had a baby was “gross”.

He says I’m the most immature person he knows. His wife is the same age as me and he gets pissed when I point that out. He says his wife is “so much more mature” than me. Why am I immature? I really don’t know.

My husband and I pay our bills. We don’t have any debt except a car loan, our child is healthy and strong, our bonds with our families are stronger than ever… I don’t know why I am the most immature person he knows.

I don’t want him in my life anymore. I just don’t have the time or energy to waste on someone who is so ungrateful and so undeserving. I cannot expose my son to a person like that, let alone let my brother speak to me (the way he does) in front of my son.

I don’t know how we wound up with a stranger in our immediate family. He just doesn’t care about us, not enough to give up his time and energy. When my parents drive up to visit me and my family, they pass by my brother. When they ask to pop by and just say hi, he says that he is busy and they need to give him more notice.

Today, my dad told me that my brother is his son and he loves him. But he doesn’t understand him, and he disappoints him every day. He wishes he knew, at least, why his son is the way he is. But he can’t figure it out, and every day he wonders what went wrong.

We all make mistakes. Parents will royally screw up their kids. But if we want to break the cycle, we need to rise above the trauma we endured.

When you were little, someone may have made you carry a heavy stone. You had to carry it everywhere and the fact you carried it never left your mind. But you started to grow stronger, and you learned to carry it and go about your life.

But when that person is gone and when they can no longer make you, if you still carry that stone then it’s because you choose to carry that stone.

I dropped my stone many years ago. My brother is still carrying his.

Let go of your stone. You deserve to be happy and free.

That Indescribable Love

When my Son was first born, I had so many doubts and regrets.

I was in pain, my nipples were scabbed and bleeding, and now I had this precious, screaming, crying little lump.

Those first 6 weeks were hell. He slept in 50 minute bursts and had colic due to not being able to process breast milk.

Now he’s 3 months old, and our lives are just filled with joy and sunshine. He is the song in our hearts and I could never, ever give him up. I love him endlessly.

But DH and I still know that we come first. Our relationship has to be strong for him to thrive. If we hate each other and deteriorate, then he will suffer.

DH’s parents had a horrible divorce. Mine never divorced, but I wish they did. They’re happy now, but for years I had to watch my parents just fight and tear each other apart. They absolutely despised each other.

My siblings and I all asked our parents to get divorced. They admitted the only reason they didn’t was there is too much money and assets to divide. They said it was too late and they stayed together for our sake.

I would have been a lot happier if they divorced.

So now, DH and I work hard to commit to each other. While our Son is our precious child that we love and adore, we love and adore each other first. We do whatever we can to make the other feel loved and special, because our Son will eventually leave the house and suddenly DH and I are left alone.

We didn’t want to see our child leave the home and realize we are living with a stranger.

Because of that mindset, our marriage is as strong as ever and our family is happy, safe, and loved.

We are beyond overjoyed with our little nugbug.

Having Children: All-In or Nothing

I have an older brother. He’s mid-thirties and is married to a woman who is in her early 30’s. He’s vocalized how much he wants children, and his wife (before they got married) made it very clear that she doesn’t.

He told her that they have kids or they break up. She agreed, but now it’s time to start trying and she is dragging her feet.

Most people who have been through pregnancy, delivery, and raising a child will tell you: it is hard.

It is very, very hard. Some women have unicorn pregnancies (where everything is wonderful and nothing goes wrong) but most face serious complications or discomfort.

I had a pretty easy and complication free pregnancy. No high blood pressure, no gestational diabetes, no insomnia, etc. But I had severe morning sickness that required medication for 15 weeks, then I had awful piles and a part of my thigh is numbed due to nerve loss. I can still work the muscles and I can feel touch, but there is a significant loss of feeling.

It happens.

So imagine if you don’t want a baby? Imagine if being a mother was the last thing you had on your list? Can you imagine going through morning sickness, limiting your diet, your activities, and suddenly everyone ignoring you and only focused on the life you carry?

That happened to me and I wanted our son, very much. It was awful, and I felt so miserable at times and kept asking myself who on earth would do this once, let alone twice!

My brother has been pushing and pushing his desire to have kids, especially after I had our son. He will meet our child soon, and his wife will be there. I have a strong feeling that it won’t go well for her, because I’ve seen her with kids before and she just clams up and says nothing. She doesn’t say hi to them, she doesn’t interact with them, instead she stays as far away as possible.

I am glad she knows she doesn’t want to have children. I am not glad that she claimed she changed her mind, though her body language and actions have proven otherwise.

I am not glad that my brother is pushing her, and seemingly can’t take the hint that it’s not something she wants. I am not glad that he can’t appreciate how much he is asking of her, and how she will have to give up her body, her freedom, and her identity.

He doesn’t understand how much work it is to have a child. He thinks they can continue to go camping and long weekends in Joshua Tree. Either take the baby or drop them off with grandparents. To him, a child is just an accessory and a step he needs to take.

He doesn’t realize that your life is turned upside down. DH and I are “boring” people, my brother says. We are homebodies, we don’t eat out, we like staying at home or going on walks and just spending time doing simple things. To my brother, it’s just dull. He goes out all the time, camping, drinking, eating out, etc.

But my “boring” life is never going to be the same. Our schedule is a complete slave to our son’s schedule, to make sure he naps enough, he is fed on time, he is stimulated enough, etc. We had to give up a lot of things, and happily since this was something we hoped for.

But in the first month, it was extremely difficult. We kept asking each other if we made a horrible mistake. Was this the right thing for us? Should we have waited? Maybe we’re not meant to be parents?

Waking up every 50 minutes and having your nipples scab over, him screaming due to colic, and all of these other struggles made us question so many of our choices.

But we made it through, we love our son more than life itself, and yet I sit here and know that this would be sheer torture and punishment for any person who does not want a child.

If you want to have children, both couples need to be 100% all-in. Both need to understand the full reality of the responsibility, and both need to understand the burdens that the other partner will undergo/take on if they decide to make that step.

He’s here

On March 19th, our little boy joined the world.

Labor was about as bad as it can be. I didn’t have a long first stage of labor. It went from a barely noticeable first stage to active labor in a matter of moments. I had over 7 hours of 1 to 1 1/2 minutes of contractions just 3 minutes apart. I had to get an epidural because the back labor was insane.

He came out at 8 lbs and 2 oz, 20 inches long, with a head that’s 14 inches around. I have a second degree tear and a prolapsed hemorrhoid.

But he’s here! He is beautiful, and after 1 week we are learning our routine. He sleeps in a co-sleeper between us, and DH and I take turns waking up to change and comfort him.

I’m getting the hang of breast feeding, and I already lost 25 lbs! I feel good, despite a big tear and still bleeding, and I look forward to figuring out life as a family of three.

Some Creepy Shit, Right There

DH and I finally had a break through when discussing BIL and SIL.

I told him I have this deep fear, irrational on many levels, that BIL and SIL will steal our baby. It’s not going to happen, I’m about 98% sure, but… hear me out.

Let’s say you and your partner got a dog. You waited for the right time and got lucky and found the perfect dog. Your brother and his wife barely spent time with you, but talked to you (just the brother) on occasion.

The history isn’t great, as his wife pretty much hates your wife and made it super clear. Now, peace is finally here but there isn’t any closeness. His wife isn’t interested, so your wife has just learned to deal with it.

But, when they find out you’re getting a dog, they start talking about how excited they are about the dog. How they’re proud that you’re getting a dog, and you know that they really want a dog too. In fact, they voiced that they thought THEY should have a dog before you.

Well, the dog is here and suddenly, they are mad you won’t let them be around the dog as much as they want to. They think they are the most qualified to help you with the dog and want to be with the dog as much as possible.

These people, who were never interested in being close, now suddenly want to be around all the time. This only happened after you got the dog.

Now, do you think it would ever cross your mind that they only like the dog? That maybe they would jump at the chance to take your dog? Would you have these fears that they would one day just say, “We are much better dog owners than you, we can take him off your hands!”

Sounds awful, right? The only reason it’s different from a baby is because a baby is connected to the parents in a way a dog can’t (you can’t give birth to a dog).

DH realized that it’s a pretty accurate analogy of our current situation, and admits it’s pretty fucking creepy.

I’m just grateful they can’t take our baby and go enjoy people thinking it’s theirs. They’re both white and DH and I are a mixed race couple.

Of course, BIL and DH have the same DNA, so in a way our baby is BIL’s “alternate universe” baby. It would be what his kid would look like if he didn’t marry another white person.

Another level of creepy.

Get that Shit Out of Here

Some people are shockingly awkward. They lack any semblance of charm, aside from being charming with how awkward they are (if that is still a thing).

When I was younger, almost everyone was like that. Why? Because we’re teenagers who desperately want to fit in and be loved/involved in everything. We want everyone to think well of us and have serious trouble if anyone has a negative thought.

But now, I’m in my 30’s and I have well-learned that some people will just dislike you. There is nothing you can do about it.

Occasionally, I meet people who still carry that self-esteem killing baggage from our youth. They desperately want to be liked by everyone, and any time they are confronted with the reality that they are dislike, they get violent. Not physically, though sometimes physically, but emotionally. They lash out, they get accusatory, and in the end nothing is their fault or problem.

The worst part about these people is that they are so desperate to look like they have it together. They will put up any front to seem like they got it all. They tend to have those “magazine” homes, with perfectly matching decor, knicknacks, everything framed, and tons of photos of themselves.

The part that breaks my heart the most is their constant quest for validation.

But the part that loses my sympathy is how many of these people will take the validation and praise, but then never give any in return. In fact, almost everything they say is hopelessly negative.

Because being effusive and positive is so desperately uncool and will make them vulnerable.

DH and I were talking to BIL and SIL, and DH was telling them how much the baby classes have meant to him. He talked about how he felt much more prepared and how he learned how to swaddle.

Their reply: We won’t be taking those, we don’t need to. SIL knows everything about babies. (Then SIL chimes in) Swaddling an actual baby vs. a doll is totally different. Much harder.

DH and I were talking about how far along I am, I told them 37 weeks and ready for this to be over.

Their reply: Well he’s fully formed and ready to come out whenever! He can come out now and be just fine.

Yes, thank you for telling me, the pregnant woman, that my baby is ready to come into the world. Thanks for letting me know that from a medical standpoint, he is healthy enough to breathe and function on his own. I had no idea, as someone who has been pregnant for the past 37 weeks, about the stages of fetal development. I had no clue.

But the worst part? The part that makes us wince/cringe and has made our parents look aghast and weirded out?

Their constant vocalization of how proud they are of us. For having a baby. They’re proud of us for having a baby. The various reactions from our parents?

MIL: What, like he had a hand in any of this?

My Mom: Why is he so weird? What a weird thing to say.

My Dad: You know… just ignore him.

FIL: *bemused smirk* Proud?

They say a lot of weird things like that. I think it is their way of balancing their indignation that we are having a child before them. Their immediate reaction was, “It should be us!” and now, to not be assholes, they are expressing their pride in the fact that DH and I are having a child.

The reality is that they are painfully awkward people, and because they refuse to acknowledge how awkward they are it shows that they completely lack any charm. They are truly unforgettable people.

I’m not even joking. When I first met DH’s extended family, BIL and SIL were engaged. DH’s uncle and I were hitting it off as we discussed sustainable crop rotation (he is a scientist) and then he suddenly asked me, “What is the name of BIL’s fiancee, again?”

He’s known her for over a year at this point. I told him her name, he nodded and said, “Is she having a good time?”

His guess was as good as mine, as I’ve known her for two months at this point. She was sour faced, sitting in the corner, arms crossed. BIL was hovering around her, whispering to her as she just shook her head or nodded. He literally had his arms on either side of her chair as he hovered and kept whispering.

I assured him that she was, and we went on to discuss how hops grow.

When we would go to functions where we are forced to interact, people would first assume that DH and I were his brother and fiancee. Why? Because they thought we were the couple that was going to get married due to the way we behaved.

Over time, people began to ask if DH and I were coming to events and would always mention, “They are just the life of the party.” There was no inquiry as to whether BIL and SIL would attend, and they often didn’t because she likes spending time with her family over the other side.

The bottom line?

Life is what you make of it. It’s the biggest lesson my father ever taught me and one I hope to pass on to my child.

If you wish to carry a raft around with you at all times, because once you came across a roaring river, then it is your choice. But don’t start complaining and whining about how slow the journey has become or how heavy the raft is.

You can let go of the raft at any moment, but you choose to hold onto it in your misguided belief that it will keep you safe.

If you let go of the raft, you run into the risk of needing it again later on in life. But you have gone for miles and days without a single roaring river in sight. Maybe a few quiet ones, a creek or two, but you managed to cross it without using the raft.

Don’t be afraid of living without the raft.

Don’t be afraid of other people’s judgments and opinions of you. They are about as important and relevant as you wish to make it. You’ve got one life to live. Don’t spend it letting anxiety and fear rule your life.

The more you embrace your authentic self, the more people will respect you for it.

Taking It Easy is Not in My Blood

A lot of people have voiced the opinion that DH should be “doing more” for me, because I am currently 38 weeks pregnant.

Many of DH’s relatives think I should just put my feet up and eat and do nothing. While it sounds nice (ish), I don’t really feel the need to do that. I’ll do a lot of resting once our son is here, not sleeping but resting, and I have time to do nothing but focus on our baby then.

But I also think back to my mom, her mom, and all of those women that came before. I often think of my great-grandmother, who left Korea to come and look after me and my siblings and then after my cousins.

She went back when we were all in school, and I saw her once more before she died. I remember carrying a watermelon inside for her, as she just broke her arm. She marveled at how tall and strong I was, and all I could do was feel overwhelmed that here she was, so old and living alone in a small cottage with a tiny garden.

She grew that watermelon for us, because my mom told her we will be coming. She was an amazing cook and a loving, doting great-grandmother. She didn’t mind that we spoke English and were disconnected from the past. She was proud that we didn’t have to struggle like she did.

And did she struggle.

She was married at 14, had a child right away, and then for five years she had miscarriage after miscarriage. The War tore apart her country, her home, and all she could do was try to survive it.

She taught herself how to read, because she was plucked out of school at age 8 to help with the family farm. She went through so much hardship, and I know that the War and famine resulted in those multiple miscarriages.

I know she worked up right until the day her six children were born. She never took a break, and always thought of how she could help and be there for others. Her heart was always full, her back always bent, and her hands always busy.

I take pride in knowing that I come from her, from her blood and from her courage. She saw through the worst possible moments in her nation’s history, and she did all of that for the future. For me, and for my child.

I want her to be proud that I am working, not as hard as her of course, and that I cook my non-Korean husband many different Korean dishes. I make my own pickles, I make dumplings from scratch (that they are all beautiful), and how I give my grandmother (her daughter) money every New Year to show my gratitude.

I want her to know that my son will know the same tastes, sounds, and experiences as I did. I will keep him as rooted as possible to the past, and he will know of her strength and sacrifice. He will know that he is here and I am here only through their courage and determination to survive.

They refused to be extinguished.

So while I appreciate those in DH’s family thinking that I should be pampered, DH says I am too stubborn and too determined. He knows asking me to stop doing things and limiting my actions will only anger me, and that he trusts me to ask him to step up or take care of things if I am not able. He never questions me.

When his family asks why I won’t take it easy, he simply tells them that I am full of han and jeong. When they ask what that is, he says that there is something that runs through all Koreans, no matter where they are.

It is the co-existing feeling of hope, sorrow, and love. It compels us, it defines us, and it unites us.

Everyone Has Advice, Whether You Want It or Not

More adventures with my BIL!

Yesterday, DH and BIL had a long talk about DH’s issues with FIL. BIL gave advice on how to handle it, and how BIL is in a good place with FIL and doesn’t understand why DH and their sister aren’t in a good place.

DH admitted to him that when BIL met his future wife, he completely checked out with the family. He pretty much left DH to handle it on his own – and through no fault of either of them – with two parents that are very emotionally needy. ESPECIALLY their Dad.

His dad is twice divorced, depressed, anxiety, selfish, and very emotionally needy. He needs constant validation, and he only really understands love through gifts and acts of service. Words of validation are helpful, but he doesn’t care about quality time unless he wants it. He doesn’t like giving any of those things as a method of love, and instead just wants to receive it. Bottom line: he’s a taker.

BIL basically gave FIL requirements to be in his life. Buy him stuff and don’t overstep. So FIL buys him gifts, gives things to him and his wife, and is always on his “best behavior” when over. But he doesn’t like spending time with BIL, of course BIL doesn’t know this. He just goes over because he’s lonely, but would much rather (he’s said it himself) come and spend time with us.

I pointed out to DH, who wishes he said this to BIL, that if BIL’s solution to the problem only works for him, then maybe he doesn’t have the same problem as everyone else.

BIL was always more emotional (i.e. angry), more difficult to deal with, and ultimately their parents just relied more on DH. For DH to do the dishes, throw out the trash, be an emotional support, come to family events, etc. So when BIL met his future wife he just became more aggressive about his space and the value of his time.

Which ultimately leads us to where we are today. BIL giving us parenting advice.

DH said he has concerns about how he and FIL will have a relationship going forward, as he has to think about our son and what our son will see. He doesn’t want our son to learn from FIL about how to be a man or a dad, and doesn’t want our son to be negatively impacted by the strained relationship.

BIL, very wisely/stupidly said, that our son can at least see that FIL has good intentions. He can get excited about stuff, but only if he cares about it. So that means it’s either about his work, fishing, nature, or anything else that interest him. If he doesn’t share the interest, he is completely checked out.

DH pointed out that a child won’t understand good intentions. At best, our son can figure that out when he’s in his 30’s if he really sat and thought about it. Of course, by then FIL would have long passed away.

BIL then said that we can always pass down the habits and lessons we want our son to learn. THAT made me laugh, hysterically.

Kids are sponges. They will absorb whatever they want and whatever they can. Typically it’s all the stuff you WISH they would skip over. We can’t pick and choose, and we can’t just make him forget and not learn. That’s not possible.

We have to present him with the best world possible, and just try to navigate the shit that gets in the way. We will just need to accept that he’s learned our bad habits and hope that, when he gets older, he will realize how bad they are. But for a long, long time, there will be nothing we can do but try to lead by example.

BIL thinks he’s an authority on children because he’s a school teacher. He thinks his wife, SIL, knows EVERYTHING about babies and pregnancy.

DH and I are at the point where we just laugh and say, “Well he’ll sing a different tune when it’s actually happening to him.”

We hate to be those people, but moral of the story is:

Your opinion/advice is like having a penis. It’s great to have one and you can be super proud of it. But don’t be surprised if people freak out and get mad if you whip it out and try to shove it down our throats.