Since becoming a mother, I've only gone back to work part-time in order to stay home and take care of baby as well as manage the house. People often ask what I do during the day. Here's a glimpse of me and my life with a 9-month old. (Please note life with a 9-month old is way different than life with a newborn!)

Today

7:30am- Baby wakes up. Change and dress him. Nurse him. 

8-9am- Prepare and feed him breakfast (solids). This really takes 45 min to an hour! Put laundry in the wash.

9-9:45am- While he's playing in the living room, I clean the bathroom (floors, rug, sink, tub, toilet). Vacuum bathroom. bedroom, hallway, kitchen. Clean and organize the towel closet, throw away expired medication, and periodically get baby out from the fireplace which he's taken a fancy to crawling into. Seriously. I have to take him out at least 5 times in half an hour. Can't wait till the playpen arrives!

9:45-10am- Change and put baby down for nap.

10am- Finally eat breakfast (cookies the breakfast of champions). Do research on baby formula because we need to restock and reply to emails. Put first load of laundry in dryer and put second load of laundry in wash. Clean kitchen from making baby's breakfast earlier and plan baby's lunch menu. Wipe floors because he's been fascinated with throwing food on the floor these days.

11am- Prep baby's lunch. 

11:15am- Baby wakes up. Change his poo diaper. Attempt to nurse. 

11:30am- Get dried laundry, fold laundry, give baby lots of kisses while stopping him from crawling to the stairs. Did I mention we're getting a playpen? Can't wait. Play with him. Check work email briefly (and by brief I mean 30 seconds because baby is crawling towards the stairs again). 

11:45am- Nurse successfully this time. For moms going through the self-weaning process, I find CJ calms down to feed when I sing to him. Sing songs and play with baby. Put 2nd load of laundry in dryer. 

12pm- Hang out downstairs for a change of scenery. He practices standing and playing with his standing toy while I look at baby recipes for food ideas.

12:15-1pm- Baby's lunchtime (steamed asparagus tips, carrots, two broccoli florets to try, ground up turkey, tomato pasta,  yogurt leftover from breakfast,and banana for dessert) . I prep some dinner food. 

1pm- Wash baby (he gets so much food in his hair and ears) and change his outfit. Change diaper. Refill diaper wipes. Wipe floors. There are so many carrots on the floor. Wash his chair because there's food all over it, too. Order grocery or house supplies from google shopping express. GSE is amazing. Saves you a trip to the grocery store. Make my own lunch.

So while I'm trying to do all this, I put baby in his exersaucer toy by the window so he can watch cars go by. I'm washing his seat in the tub when I start hearing this rustling of a bag. I go outside only to find that he's pulled the trash out and poured all the trash around him. Amazing. I'm sure it's not just my baby that's a genius.

1:30-2pm- Do dishes. Get the 2nd load of laundry out. Change his diaper. Fish out the things in his mouth that he found on the floor. Today it was a piece of yarn.

2-3pm- Baby's naptime. Have I mentioned the best times are naptimes?

3-5pm- Today I had a chiropractor appointment (related to carrying a 20+ lb. baby) so a babysitter came. I am SO thankful for babysitters because they really give me the opportunity to do things I couldn't do otherwise with a baby in tow. If you are considering how to help friends who are new parents, offer to babysit! They can take naps, go grocery shopping, go to doctor appointments...etc. On days I don't have medical related appointments, I might take baby to the park, run errands with him, or just have a day in and continue to do more chores. More often than not, I usually have to start prepping baby's and our dinner around 4pm.

5-6pm- Nurse then feed baby dinner.

6-6:15pm- Give baby bath.

6:15-6:45- Husband and I will try to have dinner. It's usually interrupted in the middle by having to put baby down for sleep now because he's usually so tired by 6:30pm and super fussy. What does fussy look like? Mostly screaming. Ah, the life of a king baby. 

Of course not every day is like this, but it's definitely an accurate picture. Mondays are usually "cleaning Mondays", while Fridays are "floor Fridays". This just makes it easier for me to remember to clean the house since I work other days. On the days I work, it's a mad rush to get baby fed before I leave and have food prepared for him while I'm gone. Those are actually the most stressful days but I'm learning to just let go and be ok if not everything gets done on work mornings. I love being able to be at home to watch my son grow. It's not always easy with stinky poos and messy bibs, not to mention a high-energy and mobile baby. You also learn to eat what you can in minutes. But it is a blessing to be his best friend right now and to see him smile when I smile or bob his head when I sing. I know that by the time he's 5, he'll spend the majority of the day at school with peers and teachers instead of me so I really want to make the most of this time with him. I'm also really thankful for my husband who gives me this opportunity to be home and is super supportive. He helps me in the morning with getting baby up and at night with CJ's bathtime. We read stories together and it was daddy who CJ gave his first kiss to! Evening is really when we have downtime. That's when I get to read the Bible or other books I'm going through. That's also when my husband and I can take turns going out to our small groups and have fellowship with other adults. Most of all, it's a good time to remember that life isn't just about your baby. It needs to be about your walk with the Lord, your marriage, and your relationships/friendships with others, too. Things will never be the same once you have a child. You just don't have enough time for everything you did before. But this past year, I've learned that it's ok and it's about adapting, being flexible, and prioritizing. There you have it-- a day in the life of a mother with her 9-month old.

My Grandmother.

There are moments in the day when I am reminded of my grandmother who passed years ago. Like when I'm on my knees wiping the kitchen floor. Or when I'm washing the chinese vegetables. Or when I close the door quietly by turning the doorknob before it hits the post to make sure not a sound is heard.

My grandmother watched my siblings and I for about five years when I was in elementary and middle school. She moved from Hong Kong for the only purpose of helping her son and grandchildren. After going back to Hong Kong, I realize what a sacrifice that was to leave a place where you could speak the language, have a social life, and have mobility in traveling. At home, she would get on her knees to wipe the floors to make sure every speck was picked up. Although we have things like swiffer now, I still find myself getting on the floor to check those nooks and crannies. My grandma would soak the vegetables in a tub of water first to make sure all the bugs and stuff floated to the top before rinsing them all. I do that now only because I watched her do it. I close the doors and drawers quietly because my grandmother wanted my parents to sleep in on weekends while my siblings and I got up to watch Saturday morning cartoons. She taught us to be mindful of others.

She has since passed and I wish I could tell her how she impacted me in all the littlest ways. I wish she could see how I am taking care of the home and raising her great grandchild. And ask her how she made that tomato egg dish in only the way she did. Funny how there are some things we don't realize until habit and routine jog memory and heart.

Washing Rice

I grew up the eldest of four. I quickly learned that it mattered if you were the eldest daughter or the eldest son in an Asian family. My mom called me to do everything. I trailed after her with towels to wipe the floors she mopped. She'd call home in the mornings and afternoons from work to make sure I had vacuumed. She called me to cut the vegetables, plate the rice for everyone in the family, pour the coffee for her mah jeong friends, and get the milk bottle for my baby brother. I don't think I minded until I realized my brothers and sister got to watch tv and play while I was doing all this. It was almost a relief to go away for college because she was forced to ask someone else. And of course the task fell to my younger sister rather than the brothers. (I sometimes wonder what it's like for men who grew up in traditional Asian families with no sisters. Did they learn to do all these things?)

Today I'm married with a little boy on the way. I find that in making our home, things are not a chore anymore. I enjoy cleaning the bathroom and seeing it shine. I want to clean the stoves and microwave. I'm still learning to cook good food, but it makes me happy if my family enjoys the food.

As I washed the rice today, I found myself thinking. Rinse and drain. Rinse and drain. Rinse and drain. Until the rice water pours out clear. I found myself thinking about how life speeds by you the older you get, but there are little things that will stay the same. Like how to wash rice. The same thing I did as a little girl, I do now. Washing rice, doing dishes, and folding laundry can be quite cathartic. I'm thankful my mom made me do all those things because it's easier to to learn then than in college or post-college.

I'm sure not everyone shares that opinion and many probably see chores as a chore. But there's really something really sweet about being domestic.

And I look forward to teaching my little boy how to wash rice.

Peaches

I went fruit picking this weekend for the first time in my life. There weren't too many peaches or nectarines left since it was towards the end of the season, but it was still fun. It was also hard work. Being short, I had to crane my neck and I could only reach the fruit that was within arms length. This made finding a beautiful peach all the more worthwhile. This also increased my disappointment when I'd twist a seemingly peachy peach off and find out it was a bad fruit. What defines bad fruit? Anything with weird spots, bugs/holes, or bruises. Still, I left the farm pretty happy with my blue bucket full of good peaches.

Today, I was looking more carefully through my peaches when I found one with a small dark ring of mold on it. A wave of disappointment washed over me. But, thanks to my grandmother's example of saving anything possible, I washed it, took a knife, cut the dark part out and ate the rest of the peach. It was the sweetest peach I've ever had.

When I was picking through the fruit off the trees, I felt a bit of remorse for the peaches with blemishes. It was like that blemish defined that peach as one that was no longer worthy. Most people, including me, threw it to the ground to rot and decompose-- or be food for the flies. But I felt sad for these peaches. It was like all the effort and time they took to grow were for naught and they could not fulfill their true purpose of being eaten (and bring satisfaction to the eater--me). "They don't have feelings!", said the Boy. I know, but I still felt a bit sad.

Digging deeper, I realize why I related so much to these bad peaches. It's because we were all bad peaches to begin with. These bruises, worms, holes were our sins of lying, hating, desiring to do harm upon others. And God could have justly left us to rot, decompose, and be food for the flies. We could have easily been defined as "bad peaches". I guess this is where the rest of my analogy goes awry since Jesus did cut our sin out but didn't eat us...

But you get the picture. The peach I ate today touched me because it reminded me of how we were redeemed, not accidentally but purposefully, and how we can be the sweetest fruit to bring joy to others and to God.

For while we were still weak, 

at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 

For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—

though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—

but God shows his love for us 

in that while we were still sinners, 

Christ died for us.
(Romans 5:6-8 ESV)

Secure.

I sat there in my concert seat, observing others in the audience as my brother played Ravel's "Mother Goose". My eye landed on a brunette little boy. He was doing his best to sit still, trying to appreciate the music just like his father beside him. I was impressed by his maturity, being 5 or 6 years old, because it's hard to sit through a 2-hour concert.

His father, seeing his son's efforts, understood. He signaled for his son to crawl onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him. Safe in his father's arms, the little boy fell asleep. Safe in our Father's arms, we are secure. The father kissed his son's head. He is loved. Do you know there is such security in being loved so perfectly?

Quote of the day: "Delighting yourself in the Lord is an all-consuming, day-by-day quest to bring all of our desires into that one great desire, so that he does satisfy."-- John Piper