Guest Blog: Chicken’s Turn

It’s about time I weighed in.  This is Chicken, the smart dog in the house.  Probably the smartest mammal in the house, if not the entire block.  Seriously, do you see me picking up anyone else’s #2?  I didn’t think so.

Well, the other day I heard an annoying cacophony of cheers and clapping, so I went to check it out.  Maybe my Sam Smith CD finally came in the mail, I didn’t know.  I’m not usually a curious sort, but that day I was feeling optimistic.  That will teach me.

I barely poked my head through the door frame when I realized they were watching the Fat Puppy as per usual, and celebrating its every little achievement.  What I saw, however, was not the usual rolling around without purpose or rocking on her haunches like a simpleton.  Oh no, what I witnessed literally terrified me to the point of hiding in the farthest corner of the house for the rest of the day.

She was crawling.

I heard the ladies say something about “let the fun begin.”  I beg to differ.  It’s more like “let the anxiety begin and the way I used to live my very comfortable and posh lifestyle END.”  What the woof?  Someone’s gonna pay for this.


Faux Pas

Four paws?

No, try again. Here we go. (Not based on a true story, thank goodness.)

“Hi! Great to see you again!”

“Congratuations, when are you due?”

“Uh, you’re pregnant, right?”

“Oh my gosh… I’m soooo sorry.”

“It must be, um, your healthy appetite for life…”

“Oh, look at the time. Gotta run!”

Kids having kids?

Across the Pond

No… the other one. Years ago I flew from South Korea (aka the “good Korea”) to the United States. I was about Little Bug’s age.


It still floors me that my parents met me after I already had two teeth, a nonsensical vocabulary and some semblance of motor skills.  Moreover, the fact that I was one of many babies in an emerging country’s orphanage consoles me when Lucie is sick or hungry or tired. I have no idea what conditions were like for me as a baby, but I tell myself that Lucie had it way better. Had. You see, now the timer starts in my mind of when I was a first-world baby as of 10.5 months. No longer can I console myself by knowing that I wasn’t always held or changed right away or fed a bottle at just the right temperature. Now the serious parenting begins. Mama K, of course, has never sought after this “cop out”, which is probably why Lucie has survived this long.

As far as my own voyage, a wise man once said:

Thank you,
Thank you,

If you don’t have anything nice to say

Mama K tells me that I need to be more positive when talking to Little Bug. At first I scoffed at her suggestion (an indicator in itself, perhaps?), but then I kept a log of the dialogue I had with LB that week. It seems Mama K may have a point, so I suppose I could tone it down a bit…

“Oh, you have a booger on your ear.”

“Don’t hit me in the face.”

“Stop that– I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re a goofball.”

“If you’re so tired, why don’t you just go to sleep?”

“Here comes Destructo-saurus…”

“That’s not for eating, Little Bug.”

“What in the world…?”

“I think you’re trying to blow your nose, but you’re just spitting.”

“Oh, if only being cute was a survival skill…”

“Are you smiling at me? Nope, you’re pooping.”

“What could possibly be the matter now?”

“Ouch! Ow, ow ow!”

“You’re silly.”

“Where are you going?”

“Gross! Don’t spit your food at me.”

“You’re going to eat my drawstring again?”

Circle, Circle, Dot, Dot

Don’t forgo the cootie shot.

Remember the good old days when you packed your wagon for the long journey, shot some buffalo and caught up with fellow travellers at Fort Kearney?  It seemed that neither busted wagon wheels nor fording a river could kill a traveller faster or more efficiently than… diphtheria.  You could be on your course, making great time, when Jenny’s nagging cough suddenly prompts the inevitable screen shot of a pixellated gravesite and this: “Jenny has died of the measles.” Well, heck, there goes another 30 points.

If you’ve ever wondered “Where are they now?” you can check out a fun article about the diseases of the Oregon Trail here. Or, you can simply go to Disneyland, the site of the last measles outbreak. This year. Sheesh.

Come on, people!


From the mouths of babes

“Da da da da.”

This happens to be Little Bug’s favorite utterance as of late.

Recap from last week:

LB: “Dada.” 

Mama C: “Kate, did you hear that? Ha!”

[Kate rolls eyes]

Mama C: “Hi, LB! What was that? Dada! Dada!”

LB: “Da da da da.”

Mama K to Mama C: “Stop that.”

And so… I stopped.

But LB is still going strong.

There must be some sort of etymological research paper that can come of this.



Bonus Blog (Outtakes!)

People often remark on how photogenic LB is and how well she takes pictures. Well, here’s a little behind the scenes glimpse of the shots that don’t make it on the blog. Enjoy.

Two steps east, one slide back

Little bug went to Maryland to visit the extended family.

In her bear costume to visit the polar bears at the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore.
In her bear costume to visit the polar bears at the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore.


Then she came back to learn crawling. Which she does backwards.

Grandma Ro came out to spoil Lucie.



After seven days of non-stop attention, Lucie has gotten used to a certain level of concierge service. 99 problems…

So we gave her attention, alright. Next request?