caleb chronicles: i'm so tired

Please do me the courtesy of hitting the play button on the YouTube embed before you start reading this. Much like the last thoughts shared about Master Caleb, there's plenty of words to draw upon from our rock heroes of the past. At time of writing Master Caleb has just fed, has a fresh diaper strapped and stands (or lays) a couple of days shy of four weeks. In between sentences, my eyes shift over to he and his Mamaroo where I can see him fully approving of the gadget's calming rhythmic movements (he is sleeping). Four weeks! I'm learning quickly as a new parent that there are an infinite amount of non-milestones and achievements to celebrate. But let's be clear, this one is a win for his parents, mostly Emmelle. Four weeks of keeping him alive. That feels like something significant considering where we started weeks ago. The beginning of all of this? Well, Emmelle's contractions began in the wee hours of a Monday morning - midnight to be more precise - and from that point until we rushed to the hospital after 9am that day, we individually dozed off for about 20-30 minutes. After admittance into the delivery ward, the waiting game began. We waited. And waited. I received a suggestion over text from my sage sister, Colonel Mustard, to get some shut eye as it would be a long night. Too much anxiety, anticipation and adrenaline. Impossible. Fortunately (and much more importantly), Emmelle did in fact snooze for a bit. And then we waited some more. And late on Monday - perhaps around 11pm - the delivery began. Monday left us and turned over to a new day of week, a new date on the calendar to perhaps call Master Caleb's very own. 12:52am. He arrived. There are tears, laughter, joe, awe (There's a whole lot of this, but I want to talk about how tired we are). A few hours pass before we are finally admitted into our room. It is after 5am now and the nurse offers to take our youngling off of our hands for a couple of hours so we can get some sleep. We gladly accept, and sleep finally comes - just about 30 hours after the labor began and roughly 45 hours since our last material sleep. And little did I realize that would be our rude and abrupt introduction into parental tiredness - relentless and seemingly everlasting. Everyone tells us it gets better. It will, it must?? The real sacrifice, as with all things as parents, comes from Emmelle. She is the one at home with the littly guy for four consecutive months. She is the one that can provide sustenance in the middle of the night and soothe his growing needs. And she is the one that does this around the clock. I, on the other hand, have been back at work for the last couple of weeks and have to miss one or two feedings per night, depending on how mischievous he chooses to be with us on that given night. When I am at my most useful, I will take young master downstairs so Emmelle can have some short but continuous sleep, void of his small cries and fussing. But there's a rub there too. Unless we have specific bottle feeding plans during that block of time, I quickly usher Master Caleb up the stairs to his food source right when he demands it. Like I said, abrupt. There is no lead time, there is no warning. All of your nerves are tested in those moments. "I'm so tired". So tired. There is another Beatles lyric that comes to mind right now: "It's Getting Better All the Time". Right? Thanks for stopping by.

caleb chronicles: is this love that i'm feelin'

While nothing may feel more comforting than a couple hours of snoozing, I'm fighting the urge for a few minutes as the need to record some of my fresh thoughts on all that's happened over the last couple of weeks (and beyond) takes precedence. I figure these sentiments will hold a lot of value in future years. And may it be a reminder, as gentle as an anvil dropped on top of my head, of how difficult these first two weeks have been with precious Master Caleb in our lives. You know, just in case silly notions of repeating this activity may occur in the future. Tonight, two weeks in, I wanted to touch quickly on the notion of love, attachment and responsibility. In short, I'm finding that they can be mutually exclusive as easily as they are intertwined. And for me, its been very much my sense of duty and devotion to Emmelle, far greater than feelings of affection for our newborn, that have driven me to be a responsible parent. This has been an interesting revelation for me - I've thought through the entire pregnancy that I would immediately be infatuated with our bundle of joy. Don't get me wrong, I am elated at his arrival. But at this stage of his life, I derive much more satisfaction in mundane task-oriented activities that I know are supporting Emmelle (and indirectly Master Caleb), rather than staring into his pudgy little face for minutes on end. In fact, I am a little lost during those rare moments his eyes come alive and tries to make sense of his surroundings. I am not disappointed by this; it all makes perfect sense. I am in the beginning stages of my relationship with my son unlike Emmelle and all mothers who have the opportunity (and the grave sacrifice) of fostering a nine month courtship in the womb. I watched Emmelle seamlessly transition from anxious expectant mother to a confident parent, full of pride and love for her own flesh and blood. It has been the most rewarding experience of everything so far, and again, is a true driver for me to be a good father - still trying to figure out what that means.  So Master Caleb, hopefully when you are not so much a baby one day and can read and comprehend your old man's words - I am comfortable with you understanding that our relationship began with a sense of responsibility and love...for your mother.  Son, I love you today, but perhaps not the way that I had anticipated. This might sound negative to some. I disagree. Its perhaps a testament to the promise of the bond to come. I'm really looking forward to everything.  Thanks for stopping by.

barcelona and san sebastian 2014

caleb is here!

There is a very good reason my updates have been so sparse in recent months. I've been diligently observing Emmelle incubate her very own child (inside of herself) and have found minimal interest in writing about more trivial matters. I deliberately use the word "observing" because I'm pretty certain I did little else during these past nine months. Meanwhile she has been a total champ, enduring all of the discomfort and hardship that come with pregnancy. So, fast forward nine months and lo and behold, our little Caleb - Yong Hwa in Korean - arrived in the first hour of Tuesday October 14, 2014. I write this roughly a week into Caleb's arrival. In the little time I have left of paternity leave, I hope to document some of the thoughts and experiences in the early going. Overall, it has been incredibly challenging, eye opening beyond belief (i.e., how can parents go through this multiple times?!) and all the while, little Caleb occasionally reveals some of the true joys of our life together that are about to come. Thanks for stopping by.

London 2014

baby adeline growing up

I'm sure I'll look back in a few years and regret not having posted more about the first couple of years of my beautiful niece's first couple of years of life. In fact, it's been over a year since the last one (her baptism). She is roughly 18 months now, and I wonder if this handful of months represents the greatest disparity between understanding how things work and an inability to act/react due to immature motor skills. It is humorous for now (see the video), but a sobering thought when you realize that a similar disparity exists when your body deteriorates. Not sobering, mildly depressing. But let's stop there. This is meant to be a celebration of young, budding life and all of the discovery and achievement that comes along with it. One other point. I recently acquired a new reader. He shall go nameless for the time being. But he gave me some feedback that my posts are generally too lengthy. I am not reluctant to admit I enjoy the written word from time to time, but these more recent posts - mostly in video form - are a direct response to that criticism. Please enjoy. Thanks for stopping by!

2014 pasadena and los angeles

Congrats to Eddie Money. First video attempt with the Nikon 5300 exclusively with a prime lens. I used it frequently in Spain and UK but I'm sort of working backwards towards looking at all of that footage. Nevertheless, great results; can you imagine how it would look with a talented shooter? Thanks for stopping by.

a few pics from barcelona: la sagrada familia

The second of two Gaudi works that we visited (the other, La Casa Mila). And honestly, we did not see enough. This guy is unreal. That is my expert opinion. The cathedral is intended to be complete in about a dozen more years - 2026. It seems like a good buffer from now to a second visit to this amazing city. Oh yes. All of this is undoubtedly a tribute to Jesus. Don't be fooled; he is clearly a fancy man with ornate preferences. View from the back entrance. Thanks for stopping by!

a few pics from barcelona: la casa mila

Geeze. I didn't intend for the whole of April to slip by without having collected anything here. Life is moving a little faster than I'm able to document. But its easy to pick up where I left off with some additional pictures of our last trip - now two months old. I still have a little video to put together. Without further ado, Barcelona. Actually, I change my mind. Here are pictures from one of the two Gaudi works we visited - La Casa Mila. They are probably the best photographs taken of this apartment. I should probably say a few words about my experience. Here goes: Gaudi is a neat man who probably experimented with all sorts of interesting drugs (this may be slander). I was speechless to discover that these are basically smoke stacks. Thanks for stopping by! I am lazy.

a few pics from london

Emmelle and I spent roughly two weeks in mid to late February living it up in London -> Barcelona -> San Sebastian. Here are a smattering of pics from the Londong leg of our trip. Note that I've replaced my busted Nikon D60 with the D5300. A world of difference - same "photographer", better tool = better photos. Amazing! A view of Parliament from the Thames River. There is nothing else to say about this - maybe (sadly) that this was probably the best of the best Parliament photos that I took. Also of note, we weren't invited in to speak on this day...not sure of the reason. St Paul's Cathedral in the background, the Millenium Bridge in the foreground. Anyone who's visited the Tate Modern Museum is familiar with this view. I carried around my tripod during this portion of our trip, so I regret slightly that we couldn't be on the riverbank just an hour or two later when all of the wonderful 'mood' lighting gets turned on. Some of the urban grit looks quite lovely in a myriad of colors - I'm sure there's a lot of folks that would disagree. Westminster Abbey. We actually had time to do this tour. It is a big church with a lot of dead people buried inside of its halls. I'm not sure there's more to say than that. Emmelle adds, "There are a lot of dead people." Eye of London. I am a little ashamed to admit that we rode this beast (completely my idea). I think again, it would probably look pretty cool in the dark with all of the city lights turned on, not so much during the day. And you quickly realize that you are standing in line with tourists who've just spent an amazing afternoon in Ripley's Believe it or Not or Madame so-and-so's wax museum. Regrettable mistake, totally my fault (great picture though). Thanks for stopping by!

history's greatest day: volume 33

I'm not sure if it's mere coincidence, but the greatest day of the year occurred on the same day as it did in 2013, Februrary 27. That's right, it's already come and gone. The rest of 2014 is basically on a downward trajectory; we should all look towards flipping the remnants of this calendar year. And how exactly did Emmelle and I celebrate said day of magnificence? Well, by dining at one of the world's most renown restaurants of course. On the last full (non-travel) day of our recent London-Barcelona-San Sebastian romp, we dined at the famed Arzak. Spoiler alert: It did not disappoint. A great great meal - delicious, fun and memorable. Headed into the meal, I read a Yelp review written by a Korean American about her epicurean experience. Included was a description of her interaction with the owner, Juan Mari Arzak. When she mentioned that she was of Korean decent, he told her that he had one Korean friend, David Chang of Momofuku. After reading that, I became very excited about sharing a similar experience - and fully ready to drop that we were Korean. When our moment came with Arzak, he also inquired about our ethnic background. In response to our Korean heritage, he claimed that he knew the best Korean chef, of course David Chang of Momofuku. It's good to be prepared; we probably had the longest chat with him among non-Spanish/Basque speakers that night. I don't care if he asks this question to every dark haired/small eyed individual that walks into his famed doors; it was pretty cool. Our dinner menu is re-typed below. Fantastic photographic memory? Hardly, they actually gave us personalized printouts of the menu based on our actual selections. For example, it includes the wine that we drank (half bottle of the Roda Reserva 2008) and excludes dishes that we did not choose (simple but terrific nuance to the whole experience). The courses with multiple dishes outside of the first, were basically an "OR" selection. As all couples should, we chose one of each to maximize our sampling. First Jiro's and now Arzak. Honestly, the best establishments in our own backyard seem fairly reasonable (i.e. French Laundry). Thanks for stopping by! Scorpion fish mousse with kataifi Mushroom with nuts and citrus Beans with olives and apple Gilda with carrot and ssamjang Chorizo with tonic ++++++++++ Beet root blood apple Apple injected with beetroot accompanied by creamy foie gras and potato "mother of pearl" Cromlech, manioc and huitlacoche Crispy manioc hydrated with huitlacoche stuffed with a preparation of onion, green tea and foie gras ++++++++++ Lobster "Sea and Garden" Grilled lobster with a crispy star shaped crepe and fresh greens Volcanic oysters Warm oysters over black salt, smoked vegetables and light acid touch ++++++++++ Ovo-lacto Egg with semi crunchy shell and baobab accompanied by "lactic leaves" and curds ++++++++++ Sole with "snow" Sole fillet served with a crust of fermented yucca, mussel and tamarind sauce and its snowman Fish steak with potatoes Fillet of seabass lightly marinated with gin and served with several flavors of potatoes ++++++++++ Wild duck and seeds Roasted duck breast over a selection of dried fruits accompanied by an elaboration of seeds like pumpkin, grape or sunflower Venison with plaster and Jerusalem artichoke Deer and roe deer loin served with roasted and plastered Jerusalem artichoke, fried chestnuts and their juice ++++++++++ The Big Truffle Largue cocoa and sugar truffle with a creamy chocolate and carob filling The Circus: Diabolo and Calamansi Under the tent of a circus, diabolos soaked in calamondin with chocolate, carrot ice cream "melted" and piece of colored clay ++++++++++ Acai granita Bitter almond ice cream "sauced" with acai and fruit ice Suspension jelly Roasted and smoked pineapple with vanilla covered with cloche and suspension jelly set with carrot and orange

adult orthodontics

I’ve had braces for over six months. Scratch that. They are not braces; the American Association of Orthodontics officially recognizes my mouth wear as adult orthodontics. There’s nothing wrong with having ADULT orthodontics as a thirty-something year old ADULT, absolutely nothing. However, for the purposes of brevity, I’ll be referring to my adult orthodontics as “braces” for the remainder of this post. But keep in mind they are adult orthodontics through and through. I’ll quickly explain the difference to the uninformed (you). Braces are for children and teens. Adult orthodontics are for adults. Get it? THEY OBVIOUSLY COULDN’T BE MORE DISSIMILAR. Six months into my plight, I am a little astonished that I have not documented the early stages of my shiny oral accessories. Perhaps a six month check-in is appropriate - not much changes during this process. I know, I've stared at my teeth in the mirror for minutes and minutes at a time, hoping to identify some positive movement. Foolish - it's like trying to catch glaciers move. Speaking of glacier, due to the sheer size of my chompers, I was ineligible for Invisalign. I am going hard core. Firstly, the why. Why go through the two-year trauma now? I've honestly asked myself this question for what seems to be about a decade. I don't mean to give away too many deep thoughts within the pages of GreensandBrowns, but I will admit that my teeth have been a source of occasional insecurity throughout my adult life. (Woah, let's back this mack truck of a blog post up for one second. When I refer to "insecurity", it is intended to explain the slightest of the slights. The minorest of minors. I'm sure there are days George Clooney looks at himself in the mirror and ponders, "Am I too handsome? How worrisome..." This is the type of insecurity I refer to.) Thus, with (hopefully) more than half of the rest of my life to live, I concluded that a little vanity detour to correct a petty imperfection wouldn't be the worst thing in the world (more on the worst thing in the world in a future blog post). Onward. I initially had four teeth extracted, the vacant lots in my gums to be inhabited by some of my favorite "big boned" toothses. To start, I wore braces on my molars for five and a half months. I don’t remember too much from the day my orthodontist faceted my teeth with my new metal friends. "Unleash the brackets!" (supposed to be said like "Unleash the kraken!") I do recall however being lifted from my chair and gazing into the mirror at a robot. I looked like half-machine with all of the intricate metal work seemingly growing out of my teeth. But still, these guys rented out space in the very back - I practiced how to speak, how to smile, how to walk the dog with minimal visibility into the real-time reconstruction occurring inside my mouth. I fairly quickly (and heroically) adapted to the dull pain. Chewing, digesting and dislodging semi-masticated food from my gums and braces were an on-going issue. Nevertheless, all of these discomforts were acceptable. Nobody could see the Sims-like city planning within the confines of my mouth. Great! And then the other shoe dropped (that's an idiom folksy folks use when something is going alright, but all the while, you are anticipating that all of that "alright" is going to even out with some "alwrong" or "alleft"). My left shoe dropped about four weeks ago, a one-hour glue session that will terrorize the next 18 months of my life. I am now full cyborg, full brackets across both of my top and bottom teeth. The pain ever greater and at times throbbing, the chewing even more complicated, the cuts in my mouth more frequent. And that's obviously not the worst part, I can't conceal them anymore, my metal frenemies totally visible for all to see (relish).  One month in, I'm finally getting to a point of indifference. But one (I) constantly runs into friends and casual acquaintances that one (I) has not seen in many months. I've deduced that a proactive explanation facilitates the smoothest interaction. Otherwise, this public service announcement becomes tiresomely applicable: I'd like to remind you that my eyes are up here, buddy. I'm certain that you aren't listening to me at all. Dear friend, family member, colleague and/or wife, you are not subtle with your ancillary gaze at my metal monstrosity. My braces are most decidedly not a pair of fleshy bosoms to be ogled. Cue the NBC ringtone...The more you know. More in six months. Thanks for stopping by.

pain revisited

I'm sitting in front of the television the morning before Super Bowl XLVIII (48) and thought this might be an appropriate time to briefly reminisce about the season-that-was for my dear San Francisco 49ers and once again, what-could-have-been as far as a spring and summer of celebrating as the top dog in the football world. And amazingly, their season once again abruptly and painfully ended with a missed opportunity to Michael Crabtree in the right corner of the end zone. While this year’s season ended one game short of the Super Bowl, I definitely felt a greater amount of pain with this one – the kind of pain I endured as a teen watching the Niners bow out of the playoffs over and over again to the Cowboys and Packers. There are the obvious reasons: missed opportunity for the final destination, playing against and ultimately losing to your rival, second guessing a risky play when more chances were available. Again, those are the obvious reasons. Thinking about it this morning, two weeks removed from the horror, my thoughts have crystallized a bit. Last year, there was zero doubt in my mind that Year Two of the Jim Harbaugh era would conclude with a celebratory hoisting of the Lombardi trophy. There was no way they were losing to that Baltimore Ravens team. But the game happened, they went down big (“WHAT?”), they came all the way back (“OF COURSE!”), the win was in the bag, the ball sailed past Crabtree’s outstretched hands…and the game was over. Poof. Over. Done. The ending happened so suddenly, even now, I’m not quite sure I’ve experienced the burden of the thing as a fan. Even that short blog post from last year – I just don’t have much to say about it. It just ended. So in contrast – the 49ers at the Seahawks. I languished this possibility for the entire year, I watched hours of Seattle football games hoping in vain for losses. I talked with friends repeatedly that the Seahawks wouldn’t lose with home field advantage, all of it was mental preparation for the inevitable. Not only did it play out as intended, the trail cruelly seeded tangible glimmers of hope for a different ending. And this one, it lingers. It didn’t simply end. The whole season keeps playing over in my mind. The “what ifs” and “if this”…And I absolutely loved this team, one of my all-time favorites, a 6-4 team that ran the table to finish 12-4 with impressive road playoff wins in Green Bay and Carolina. Even with (knock on wood) Super Bowl victories in the future, I’ll always remember this one. Thanks for stopping by.