The comedy of luggage movement continued in Pusan. We dragged our four carry-ons plus laptop bag plus kids out of the plane, picked up our stroller at the gate, and went to baggage claims where the serious baggage was waiting. Once we got it all on a couple of carts, we found out that you could not take the carts out of the secure area. So Horyon went out with the kids while I stayed with the bags. She left the kids with her parents, then came back, and we ferried our bags out to the main lobby. Fortunately many of our bags are equipped with wheels.
It was a touching reunion, being back with Horyon's parents. I was surprised at how I had missed them.
We then ferried the luggage out to the curb. The temperature was an uncharacteristic five below zero Celsius, about 23 degrees Fahrenheit. It was cold for a couple of days, then our highs came back up above freezing, and our highs for the last week have been around 50F. I've been wearing my jacket instead of my coat, and the serious winter gloves that Mary Lou gave me for Christmas when we moved to Kansas have been packed away the whole time we've been here.
So yeah, there are some things about Kansas I'm not particularly missing, like the blizzard that hit last week.
After we left Korea, Horyon's parents moved into a new apartment. It is much bigger, and brand new. They had the place decorated with pictures of us and the kids, framed pictures sitting all over the place. On little shelves, only a foot or two high. In the kids' room, as well as the living room.
It took a few days, but most of those got put away. The apartment is still, at 12 days, not quite Quinten-proof, but it's much better.
Jet-lag has never been a huge issue for me. Two or three days of grogginess and I was usually okay. I am older now. Travelling with two kids is not as relaxing as travelling by yourself or with an adult loved one. The kids have no sense of why they want to sleep all afternoon and be awake at night, and they have no inclination to change that pattern on their own. It takes brute force from Mommy and Daddy to shift it. Fortunately, we arrived with more than a month in which to adjust. Here at day 12, we are pretty much there, except for one thing:
The kids won't sleep alone. One of us has to be in the room with them when one of them wakes up. Usually Horyon. They are sleeping on pads on the floor, which is warm, but a bit hard for my taste. Make that a lot hard. I slept with them for three hours the other night, then Horyon came in to say good night. I was in pain, and soaked in sweat. I'm sure I could get used to it, but I'm already getting used to more things than I really want to, and Horyon likes sleeping with the kids. One or both have been waking up around one a.m., needing to be soothed back to sleep. Sometimes Horyon stays up doing other work and I go back to soothe them to sleep. But usually she is there. We have a queen size bed, but we haven't both slept in it since we got here. Soon, I'm hoping.
On the food front, I have been eating Korean food two, sometimes three times a day, and not suffering much for it. Granted, our first shot of sushi (and by that I mean sliced up raw fish, not those California rolls) the other night hit my mouth like a dream and my tummy like a freight train, but other than that it has been good.
I have been enjoying my mother-in-law's kimchi more than I ever have before. I honestly don't remember it being so good when we lived here before, but now it is so good I don't mind eating it at breakfast.
I know. Right now my Mom is making a nasty face. Two weeks ago I would have, too. I think the change has to do with this:
I left Korea with my family four years ago tired. Tired of being the foreigner, tired of the food, tired of the customs, and wanting a fresh start in what I thought of as my home country. Four years in Lawrence taught me that the USA is not really a kind place. Don't get me wrong, the people are wonderful. I just took a quick break to chat with Judy Chadwick, a friend from First Christian Church in Lawrence. In our four years, she became family, and she is not unique in that sense. And the only reason I could walk away from my parents at the airport without tears streaming down my face was that I didn't want Maxine to focus on what she was leaving behind, but what she was heading towards.
I have always said that people leaving their country are either running away from something or toward something. Sometimes both.
I decided that I would be moving toward a country that I enjoyed, respected, and even loved. I decided to embrace the role of stranger in a (not so) strange land, and bring back the openness that I originally brought when I arrived in 1997. And so I have been eating whatever food my mother-in-law or wife serves up, with the intention of enjoying it.
Much to my surprise, it has worked. Kimchi and rice and soup for breakfast. It works! I do have a piece of toast before, and sometimes follow up with orange juice, but hey, I'm the foreigner: I can be eccentric.
I've gone to the bath-house about every other day as well. This was not a difficult change to embrace. The bath houses were the one thing I missed most about Korea, and was most looking forward to visiting upon our return.
We arrived at my in-laws home, now our temporary home, at around 10 a.m. I think. The drive from the airport seemed to take forever, even though it was only about 45 minutes. It was like revisiting a dream: I kept thinking places were familiar. Sometimes I was right, and sometimes I was wrong. The traffic seemed insane, and I had to remind myself that I actually used to drive in it, once upon a time. I wondered, in passing, if perhaps my mental state (circadian rhythm twisted 180 degrees, not enough sleep, too much stress) was projecting my own neurotic mood onto the streets around me. If so, the projector is still running full tilt. My father-in-law is a mild-mannered man, but when he drives I keep expecting him to open a panel of James Bond buttons on his dashboard and start laying waste to thugs.
I can't quite imagine getting back behind the wheel here, and will avoid it as long as possible. So much for embracing the culture, right?
Oh, the other important cultural adjustment: we got cell phones. I've got a cute little android, though I can't afford to deck it out with apps right now. Nor do I have many people to call. But I have a phone!
In the next week or two we will be checking out the apartment provided by our school. I think we will move in, as well. We had originally talked about staying with Horyon's parents long-term, but it is hard on everyone. So we will retreat to our own home at night.
When you make a move like this one, it is inevitable that you lose some items. We can't find my socks. This was a major annoyance, as Korean socks are not comfortable for me (tried again this time), and I was making do with two old pairs of my socks that I had planned to toss after wearing. Fortunately, we found some suitable replacements at Costco, where we went for the first time today.
And so I am trying to be all the way here as long as I am here. I'll let you know how it works out, and get some pictures of the whole thing up as soon as I can work the bugs out of our internet setup. It's difficult to make time for blogging during the day, and it is now 1:30 a.m. on Tuesday here (11:30 a.m. on Monday for those of you in Kansas). I will write more about how the kids are settling in next time.
Monday, February 07, 2011
Saturday, February 05, 2011
The Trip part 2
Third flight, Incheon to Pusan. I didn't manage to do any writing on the Chicago/Incheon leg. I did watch “The Sorcerer's Apprentice” starring Nicolas Cage. It was amusing, I think. Amusing enough to keep my attention after one a.m. They served me a pretty good steak. Probably my last big chunk of beef for a while. I heard an announcement that Koreans can't bring meat into the country, and I'm guessing that it's hard for anyone to import it.
The second flight itself went well, but we hit Chicago right around Quinten's usual bedtime, and hadn't had dinner yet. We do not have pleasant memories of Chicago, with all due respect to my friends from the windy city. Hopefully some day we can make up for this short, yet unpleasant stay.
We found a food court around 10:00, and the only place open served hot dogs, gyros, and some other greasy sandwiches. The food itself wasn't bad, but it didn't appeal to Horyon and it was so expensive that I just can't recommend it to anyone. And there was a McDonald's, but it was closed! The only thing worse than eating at McDonald's is wanting to eat at McDonald's but not being able to.
The kids were fussy, Horyon was fussy, I was fussy. It had been an emotional day, and we still had almost 20 hours of traveling ahead of us. So on to security to check in. One advantage of night flying is that the security lines are shorter and faster than during the day. The only bag that was consistently checked was Horyon's sewing machine carry-on. I guess all that machinery, combined with some kids toys containing magnets and odd plastic bits, looks a bit too much like a weapon of mass destruction, rather than the tool of individual construction which it actually is. It got opened at all three security check points on our trip. Good thing we didn't pack it with heroin.
Seoul was both the best and the worst layover. There were helpful airline employees at every airport, making sure we got on the plane early, talking slowly to us like the zombies we were, rearranging our seats so that we were less likely to explode. In KC the ticketing agent from United Airlines spent 20 minutes or more working with us, getting our luggage weighed (and ignoring at least one half-pound excess) and helping us to anticipate what would happen at our next couple of stops. I offered to buy him a snack or drink or something to say thanks, but he refused. In Chicago when we finally sat down to eat one of the cleaners asked us to change tables five minutes after we had sat down to eat. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but two hours past bedtime and coming off of an emotionally draining day the first response to come to mind was, “Really? Our first time to sit in actual chairs around a table and try to relax and you want us to move?” Of course, I actually just said, “Okay,” and we moved.
We had no trouble finding our gate. It was the one crowded with Asian people, as well as being the only open gate in sight. The flight was scheduled for one a.m., and mercifully left on time. By then we were hoping that Quinten would be asleep, but he wasn't. He couldn't settle down in the crowded, noisy, brightly lit departure lounge, though he was bedtime-fussy for quite a bit of the wait. Our Asiana flight left from Chicago, and they took good care of us. They boarded us early, along with people in wheel chairs and other baby families, which was nice. There were at least half a dozen other babies and small children on the plane. Big fun.
Once we were boarded (more than 40 minutes to board a 777), we took off with no delay. Once we got past the ear pain stage, both kids fell asleep. They stayed asleep for five or six hours, much to our relief, and that of the people around us, no doubt. That's when I watched "Sorcerer's Apprentice." I was too wired to just sleep, and have never slept well on airplanes anyway. I think I got some sleep after that.
I was seated with Maxine while Horyon and Quinten were across the aisle from us. They started with a passenger between them, but she was a nice lady and offered to change seats very quickly. A very sane move, in my opinion. For the most part, and for most people, this ability to choose your plane seat months in advance is a big advantage. But for a family hoping to sit together, it can cause problems like this. Our other problem was that the plane we were on had no more than 3 adjacent seats. No way for all of us to sit together.
Horyon spent most of Quinten's sleeping time squeezed into a corner of one seat so that Quinten could lie down on one and a half seats. I did the same for Maxine for a little while, then realized that she could sleep while being seriously contorted. She spent part of her sleep time with her legs off the seat, feet on the floor, and her back arched back. Not very long, but long enough to have caused me some serious pain.
Many people had recommended giving Quinten some sort of allergy medication to help him sleep on the flight. We tried it out the week before, and found that if anything it made him more active. Difficult to imagine, I know. So we did this run straight. Turns out that flying at night is probably the best way to deal with kids. Their sleep cycles are not easily altered; if they are supposed to be asleep, and they are not allowed to move, they tend to sleep.
By the time Quinten and Maxine woke up, most of the rest of the passengers were awake, too. Quinten did laps on the plane, more than I can count. Some with me, most with Horyon. Maxine colored lots, and didn't watch much of the in flight entertainment. Maybe a couple of hours. Less than the amount of tv she watched at home. Neither of them ate much, but that makes sense considering how little they moved around.
About seven hours into this thirteen hour flight, Maxine started asking if we were almost there yet. Nine hours in she got a serious case of want-to-be-with-Mommy. She got to spend some time with Horyon while I walked Quinten around and fed him a meal, but he was more successful at playing want-to-be-with-Mommy. I keep urging him to be more rational, but it's hardly surprising that he is in no hurry to learn to speak or think: he gets his way when he pushes hard enough. He also got to keep his binky for most of the flight. I swear, he is like a little chain smoker with that thing. When it is time to throw away the binky, it is going to be a rough couple of days, with lots of toys and stuff going into his mouth, I am betting.
We approached Incheon (Seoul's airport) from the Southwest, having taken a wide detour to avoid North Korea. They can't feed themselves, but they can sure as heck shoot down any airplane that comes near. Eventually we arrived in a snow-covered Incheon. Clearing immigration was easy, as we (Horyon) had done all the work in the previous four months. No surprises.
Picking up our luggage was no fun at all. I'm sorry we didn't take any pictures, but we had eight checked bags, two of which were boxes. They were all right up against the 50 pound limit for international checked bags, so we're talking about 400 pounds of luggage. Plus two car seats and a stroller, all of which were checked with no penalty. Plus four carry-on bags, one of which was a sewing machine. We never weighed them, but I would be surprised if any of them weighed less than Maxine's 35 pounds. We also had Maxine and Quinten, and to top it off, our two computers in a laptop bag. Yep, you can actually bring all that stuff when you fly international.
We had some help at the luggage carousel from some kind airport employees. We got all of our bags onto two luggage carts, and headed for customs. No problems there. Apparently families moving into the country are not worth searching for contraband.
Then we went out into the airport, Horyon pushing Quinten in the stroller, computers slung under the stroller, wearing her backpack/carry-on and holding Maxine's hand. (If I don't keep her busy she gets into trouble.) I had it easy: I was only pushing a couple of luggage carts that weighed about a quarter of a ton. It was weird. And not just because we looked like refugees and had more luggage than the Clampetts. I have spent most of my adult life in Korea, and so this was a sort of homecoming for me. I was sort of expecting that, but not the gut-level feeling of being back home. The airport was crowded. I'm sure most of them were starting their day with a little travel, rather than heading for the last leg of a 27-hour journey (door-to-door time). They tended to get in our way, completely oblivious to the 500 or so pounds of luggage rolling their way. Maybe I should have converted to kilograms. I was stared at. I couldn't understand most of the conversations around me, but snagged bits and pieces. There were signs in Korean, some of which I could understand. And it was crowded. I felt like I was back home again.
After some wrangling and waiting, we were booked on a flight to Pusan. Believe it or not, up until that point our tickets from Incheon to Pusan were abstract, if not downright indeterminable. The flight we had originally booked had been dropped from the schedule, but we had been assured that one way or another we would make it to Pusan. Even if we had a six hour layover.
Thankfully, that was not the case. I'm not sure how long we spent in Incheon. We had to drag our bags, selves and kids about a quarter mile through the airport, then up an elevator in two shifts, then a bit further to the domestic ticket counter for Korean Air Lines. They had to have a person from Asiana physically come to the counter to verify that we deserved to be sent to Pusan, along with all of our stuff. We had some spare time to retape a box that had started to fall apart, then we had less than 20 minutes until our flight boarded. Once again the sewing machine set off warning bells. Once again the car seats and stroller were checked at the gate. Once again we were boarded first.
No. Wait. We weren't. We had to go down an escalator, outdoors (time to put the coats back on!) and rode a bus to our plane. Another small plan, this one six seats across. I sat by Maxine, who immediately asked if we were in Korea yet. I gave the short version of the world geography lesson. She was disappointed to find that we were, in fact, in Korea, but had not yet arrived at our final destination. They got us all boarded pretty quickly, and took off with no problem. The flight was only about 40 minutes, just long enough for me to have some Coca-Cola, the beverage I choose when Pepsi and Dr. Pepper and Cherry Coke aren't available. No ice. Time to start getting used to it.
If you go to Google Maps and search for Busan, Korea, you will see the airport. We came in from the South, and had a clear view as we approached, our first daylight landing. Click that Busan link and go to satellite view. It was fun to pick out the beach, roads, apartments. A few days later we purchased a high chair for Quinten from someone who lives in one of the apartments we flew over. My father-in-law, Youngsoo, drove us there, and I was excited to recognize the neighborhood that I had seen from the air.
It is now after midnight, and my impressions upon arriving in Pusan are too weighty to tackle when I am this tired. We have been here for 10 days, and the impressions are fading, but I will try to get them down before they are gone. Let me know if you find any glaring mistakes so far.
The second flight itself went well, but we hit Chicago right around Quinten's usual bedtime, and hadn't had dinner yet. We do not have pleasant memories of Chicago, with all due respect to my friends from the windy city. Hopefully some day we can make up for this short, yet unpleasant stay.
We found a food court around 10:00, and the only place open served hot dogs, gyros, and some other greasy sandwiches. The food itself wasn't bad, but it didn't appeal to Horyon and it was so expensive that I just can't recommend it to anyone. And there was a McDonald's, but it was closed! The only thing worse than eating at McDonald's is wanting to eat at McDonald's but not being able to.
The kids were fussy, Horyon was fussy, I was fussy. It had been an emotional day, and we still had almost 20 hours of traveling ahead of us. So on to security to check in. One advantage of night flying is that the security lines are shorter and faster than during the day. The only bag that was consistently checked was Horyon's sewing machine carry-on. I guess all that machinery, combined with some kids toys containing magnets and odd plastic bits, looks a bit too much like a weapon of mass destruction, rather than the tool of individual construction which it actually is. It got opened at all three security check points on our trip. Good thing we didn't pack it with heroin.
Seoul was both the best and the worst layover. There were helpful airline employees at every airport, making sure we got on the plane early, talking slowly to us like the zombies we were, rearranging our seats so that we were less likely to explode. In KC the ticketing agent from United Airlines spent 20 minutes or more working with us, getting our luggage weighed (and ignoring at least one half-pound excess) and helping us to anticipate what would happen at our next couple of stops. I offered to buy him a snack or drink or something to say thanks, but he refused. In Chicago when we finally sat down to eat one of the cleaners asked us to change tables five minutes after we had sat down to eat. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but two hours past bedtime and coming off of an emotionally draining day the first response to come to mind was, “Really? Our first time to sit in actual chairs around a table and try to relax and you want us to move?” Of course, I actually just said, “Okay,” and we moved.
We had no trouble finding our gate. It was the one crowded with Asian people, as well as being the only open gate in sight. The flight was scheduled for one a.m., and mercifully left on time. By then we were hoping that Quinten would be asleep, but he wasn't. He couldn't settle down in the crowded, noisy, brightly lit departure lounge, though he was bedtime-fussy for quite a bit of the wait. Our Asiana flight left from Chicago, and they took good care of us. They boarded us early, along with people in wheel chairs and other baby families, which was nice. There were at least half a dozen other babies and small children on the plane. Big fun.
Once we were boarded (more than 40 minutes to board a 777), we took off with no delay. Once we got past the ear pain stage, both kids fell asleep. They stayed asleep for five or six hours, much to our relief, and that of the people around us, no doubt. That's when I watched "Sorcerer's Apprentice." I was too wired to just sleep, and have never slept well on airplanes anyway. I think I got some sleep after that.
I was seated with Maxine while Horyon and Quinten were across the aisle from us. They started with a passenger between them, but she was a nice lady and offered to change seats very quickly. A very sane move, in my opinion. For the most part, and for most people, this ability to choose your plane seat months in advance is a big advantage. But for a family hoping to sit together, it can cause problems like this. Our other problem was that the plane we were on had no more than 3 adjacent seats. No way for all of us to sit together.
Horyon spent most of Quinten's sleeping time squeezed into a corner of one seat so that Quinten could lie down on one and a half seats. I did the same for Maxine for a little while, then realized that she could sleep while being seriously contorted. She spent part of her sleep time with her legs off the seat, feet on the floor, and her back arched back. Not very long, but long enough to have caused me some serious pain.
Many people had recommended giving Quinten some sort of allergy medication to help him sleep on the flight. We tried it out the week before, and found that if anything it made him more active. Difficult to imagine, I know. So we did this run straight. Turns out that flying at night is probably the best way to deal with kids. Their sleep cycles are not easily altered; if they are supposed to be asleep, and they are not allowed to move, they tend to sleep.
By the time Quinten and Maxine woke up, most of the rest of the passengers were awake, too. Quinten did laps on the plane, more than I can count. Some with me, most with Horyon. Maxine colored lots, and didn't watch much of the in flight entertainment. Maybe a couple of hours. Less than the amount of tv she watched at home. Neither of them ate much, but that makes sense considering how little they moved around.
About seven hours into this thirteen hour flight, Maxine started asking if we were almost there yet. Nine hours in she got a serious case of want-to-be-with-Mommy. She got to spend some time with Horyon while I walked Quinten around and fed him a meal, but he was more successful at playing want-to-be-with-Mommy. I keep urging him to be more rational, but it's hardly surprising that he is in no hurry to learn to speak or think: he gets his way when he pushes hard enough. He also got to keep his binky for most of the flight. I swear, he is like a little chain smoker with that thing. When it is time to throw away the binky, it is going to be a rough couple of days, with lots of toys and stuff going into his mouth, I am betting.
We approached Incheon (Seoul's airport) from the Southwest, having taken a wide detour to avoid North Korea. They can't feed themselves, but they can sure as heck shoot down any airplane that comes near. Eventually we arrived in a snow-covered Incheon. Clearing immigration was easy, as we (Horyon) had done all the work in the previous four months. No surprises.
Picking up our luggage was no fun at all. I'm sorry we didn't take any pictures, but we had eight checked bags, two of which were boxes. They were all right up against the 50 pound limit for international checked bags, so we're talking about 400 pounds of luggage. Plus two car seats and a stroller, all of which were checked with no penalty. Plus four carry-on bags, one of which was a sewing machine. We never weighed them, but I would be surprised if any of them weighed less than Maxine's 35 pounds. We also had Maxine and Quinten, and to top it off, our two computers in a laptop bag. Yep, you can actually bring all that stuff when you fly international.
We had some help at the luggage carousel from some kind airport employees. We got all of our bags onto two luggage carts, and headed for customs. No problems there. Apparently families moving into the country are not worth searching for contraband.
Then we went out into the airport, Horyon pushing Quinten in the stroller, computers slung under the stroller, wearing her backpack/carry-on and holding Maxine's hand. (If I don't keep her busy she gets into trouble.) I had it easy: I was only pushing a couple of luggage carts that weighed about a quarter of a ton. It was weird. And not just because we looked like refugees and had more luggage than the Clampetts. I have spent most of my adult life in Korea, and so this was a sort of homecoming for me. I was sort of expecting that, but not the gut-level feeling of being back home. The airport was crowded. I'm sure most of them were starting their day with a little travel, rather than heading for the last leg of a 27-hour journey (door-to-door time). They tended to get in our way, completely oblivious to the 500 or so pounds of luggage rolling their way. Maybe I should have converted to kilograms. I was stared at. I couldn't understand most of the conversations around me, but snagged bits and pieces. There were signs in Korean, some of which I could understand. And it was crowded. I felt like I was back home again.
After some wrangling and waiting, we were booked on a flight to Pusan. Believe it or not, up until that point our tickets from Incheon to Pusan were abstract, if not downright indeterminable. The flight we had originally booked had been dropped from the schedule, but we had been assured that one way or another we would make it to Pusan. Even if we had a six hour layover.
Thankfully, that was not the case. I'm not sure how long we spent in Incheon. We had to drag our bags, selves and kids about a quarter mile through the airport, then up an elevator in two shifts, then a bit further to the domestic ticket counter for Korean Air Lines. They had to have a person from Asiana physically come to the counter to verify that we deserved to be sent to Pusan, along with all of our stuff. We had some spare time to retape a box that had started to fall apart, then we had less than 20 minutes until our flight boarded. Once again the sewing machine set off warning bells. Once again the car seats and stroller were checked at the gate. Once again we were boarded first.
No. Wait. We weren't. We had to go down an escalator, outdoors (time to put the coats back on!) and rode a bus to our plane. Another small plan, this one six seats across. I sat by Maxine, who immediately asked if we were in Korea yet. I gave the short version of the world geography lesson. She was disappointed to find that we were, in fact, in Korea, but had not yet arrived at our final destination. They got us all boarded pretty quickly, and took off with no problem. The flight was only about 40 minutes, just long enough for me to have some Coca-Cola, the beverage I choose when Pepsi and Dr. Pepper and Cherry Coke aren't available. No ice. Time to start getting used to it.
If you go to Google Maps and search for Busan, Korea, you will see the airport. We came in from the South, and had a clear view as we approached, our first daylight landing. Click that Busan link and go to satellite view. It was fun to pick out the beach, roads, apartments. A few days later we purchased a high chair for Quinten from someone who lives in one of the apartments we flew over. My father-in-law, Youngsoo, drove us there, and I was excited to recognize the neighborhood that I had seen from the air.
It is now after midnight, and my impressions upon arriving in Pusan are too weighty to tackle when I am this tired. We have been here for 10 days, and the impressions are fading, but I will try to get them down before they are gone. Let me know if you find any glaring mistakes so far.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
The Trip part 1
I'm writing on the first plane of our trip. It's an ERJ, three seats wide. I had to ask to find out, and the stewardess pointed out to me that it is a small plane. I suppose that in her line of work you do a lot of pointing out of obvious things. Horyon and Quinten are across the aisle to my right, and Maxine is in front of me. Probably my last opportunity to write during this journey. I suspect that if the kids sleep on the next flight, I will, too.
Quinten is doing fine with the pressure changes. A little babbling and munching on some grapes seemed to equalize his pressure. Hopefully it will be as easy coming down. He is currently bouncing around between Horyon and the bulkhead, standing on the seat, exploring the seat tray, doing his little scientist thing. But boy oh boy does he want to move around. We are really hoping that he sleeps through the first part of the next flight. We are scheduled to leave Chicago at 1 a.m. They will very likely be asleep at that time, so the only question is will they stay that way?
Maxine is doing great. She has a new princess sticker book and a journal with seven little colored pens attached. She is drawing pictures and supplementing them with stickers while enjoying some bubble gum purchased just today.
Speaking of today, it has already been a long day. After Quinten woke up, Horyon and I drove back to the house in Lawrence for what may be the last time. (We are putting it up for sale, and hope that it will be sold long before we return.) We loaded up our shipping bags (four bags at 80 lbs each, for a total of 320 lbs) and took them to the UPS store, then drove back to the house. We picked up a few key items which we had forgotten Saturday, like my carry-on backpack. This was a big deal because it contained both Maxine's pillow pet and her polar bear. These items would be sorely missed, as would my ancient (six-year-old) 60 Gigabyte MP3 player, my super big bottle of store-brand pain reliever that is cheaper than Tylenol, my comb, and my software CDs, without which my next computer would be missing lots of important stuff.
So we loaded up the van, dropped some stuff off with a couple of friends, dropped by Hancock Fabrics to say goodbye and make sure Horyon's W-2 gets sent to the right place, spent our last gift card (at TJ Max), and had lunch at a Chinese buffet that has a really good selection of California rolls and a make-your-own noodle soup buffet, as well as crab rangoon, General Tsao's Chicken, and a few other Chinese buffet yummies. We are seriously going to miss our Chinese buffets in Korea.
Then back to Leavenworth for showers, last-minute packing, and other stuff.
We are beginning our descent, so I have to stop for a bit.
Quinten is doing fine with the pressure changes. A little babbling and munching on some grapes seemed to equalize his pressure. Hopefully it will be as easy coming down. He is currently bouncing around between Horyon and the bulkhead, standing on the seat, exploring the seat tray, doing his little scientist thing. But boy oh boy does he want to move around. We are really hoping that he sleeps through the first part of the next flight. We are scheduled to leave Chicago at 1 a.m. They will very likely be asleep at that time, so the only question is will they stay that way?
Maxine is doing great. She has a new princess sticker book and a journal with seven little colored pens attached. She is drawing pictures and supplementing them with stickers while enjoying some bubble gum purchased just today.
Speaking of today, it has already been a long day. After Quinten woke up, Horyon and I drove back to the house in Lawrence for what may be the last time. (We are putting it up for sale, and hope that it will be sold long before we return.) We loaded up our shipping bags (four bags at 80 lbs each, for a total of 320 lbs) and took them to the UPS store, then drove back to the house. We picked up a few key items which we had forgotten Saturday, like my carry-on backpack. This was a big deal because it contained both Maxine's pillow pet and her polar bear. These items would be sorely missed, as would my ancient (six-year-old) 60 Gigabyte MP3 player, my super big bottle of store-brand pain reliever that is cheaper than Tylenol, my comb, and my software CDs, without which my next computer would be missing lots of important stuff.
So we loaded up the van, dropped some stuff off with a couple of friends, dropped by Hancock Fabrics to say goodbye and make sure Horyon's W-2 gets sent to the right place, spent our last gift card (at TJ Max), and had lunch at a Chinese buffet that has a really good selection of California rolls and a make-your-own noodle soup buffet, as well as crab rangoon, General Tsao's Chicken, and a few other Chinese buffet yummies. We are seriously going to miss our Chinese buffets in Korea.
Then back to Leavenworth for showers, last-minute packing, and other stuff.
We are beginning our descent, so I have to stop for a bit.
Monday, January 24, 2011
16 hours and change...
We are almost ready to go, in the sense that we could ever truly be completely ready. Most everything is packed, we are taking our delivery bags to be delivered tomorrow (4 bags, 80 lbs each, $600+ from the UPS store in Lawrence to our home in Pusan), and we are going back to Lawrence in the morning to pick up a few things we accidentally left behind.
Saturday we (Dad, Horyon and myself) spent most of the day at the house in Lawrence, trying to sort out what we need to bring. We left a ton of stuff for Mom and Dad to go through. I am so grateful to them for how they've handled it. We dither about what to bring and what to store in their basement, and if I had a dollar for every time Dad said something along the lines of, "If it can be easily replaced at a future date, get rid of it, only bring what you absolutely need, and throw away some of this crap," I could afford to just put it all in storage.
Props to Mom for staying home with the kids all day. Granted, she had help from the 10-year-old girl to whom she gives painting lessons, and Bob and Diane came in the afternoon, and Quinten took a 2-hour nap (rare these days), but she was still here with the kids.
Today we went to Leavenworth First Christian Church. Another tough round of goodbyes, though not as heart-wrenching as last week at Lawrence F.C.C. The family went out to lunch at the China Buffet (let me tell you, we are going to miss Chinese buffets in Korea): Us, Mom and Dad, Bob and Diane, Doug, Tom and Debbie and Grandma Mary Lou. She gave me a special present: Grandpa's pen knife. A wonderful remembrance, as long as I don't lose it.
At home Aunt Becky and Uncle Don came for one last visit. We had a great time, and Horyon had a three-hour nap. Quinten got two. I got nothin', and now I'm writing on the Roblog.
And tomorrow (well, it's today already) we fly.
I don't exactly have doubts about this move, but I am sad. We really built a home here in less than four years, and now we're leaving it all behind. Don't get me wrong, I will be very happy once the house has sold. I am relieved to no longer have to worry about upkeep on cars which I don't understand. And going back to a country with a health care system that works for almost everyone, instead of just for rich and/or healthy people is a serious load off of my mind. And two full paychecks? plus overtime? plus private lessons? I would be lying if I told you I wasn't looking forward to the combination of job satisfaction and making money.
But my last 10 years in Korea never saw a church family like the one we are leaving here. In Korea it will never be as easy to buy the groceries I prefer as here. My parents won't be there, but they will try to visit in a year or so.
I will try to keep you all updated. I'm writing from my Dad's computer, so no pictures tonight. I will try to catch up as soon as I can after we arrive in Pusan.
Peace, Rob
Saturday we (Dad, Horyon and myself) spent most of the day at the house in Lawrence, trying to sort out what we need to bring. We left a ton of stuff for Mom and Dad to go through. I am so grateful to them for how they've handled it. We dither about what to bring and what to store in their basement, and if I had a dollar for every time Dad said something along the lines of, "If it can be easily replaced at a future date, get rid of it, only bring what you absolutely need, and throw away some of this crap," I could afford to just put it all in storage.
Props to Mom for staying home with the kids all day. Granted, she had help from the 10-year-old girl to whom she gives painting lessons, and Bob and Diane came in the afternoon, and Quinten took a 2-hour nap (rare these days), but she was still here with the kids.
Today we went to Leavenworth First Christian Church. Another tough round of goodbyes, though not as heart-wrenching as last week at Lawrence F.C.C. The family went out to lunch at the China Buffet (let me tell you, we are going to miss Chinese buffets in Korea): Us, Mom and Dad, Bob and Diane, Doug, Tom and Debbie and Grandma Mary Lou. She gave me a special present: Grandpa's pen knife. A wonderful remembrance, as long as I don't lose it.
At home Aunt Becky and Uncle Don came for one last visit. We had a great time, and Horyon had a three-hour nap. Quinten got two. I got nothin', and now I'm writing on the Roblog.
And tomorrow (well, it's today already) we fly.
I don't exactly have doubts about this move, but I am sad. We really built a home here in less than four years, and now we're leaving it all behind. Don't get me wrong, I will be very happy once the house has sold. I am relieved to no longer have to worry about upkeep on cars which I don't understand. And going back to a country with a health care system that works for almost everyone, instead of just for rich and/or healthy people is a serious load off of my mind. And two full paychecks? plus overtime? plus private lessons? I would be lying if I told you I wasn't looking forward to the combination of job satisfaction and making money.
But my last 10 years in Korea never saw a church family like the one we are leaving here. In Korea it will never be as easy to buy the groceries I prefer as here. My parents won't be there, but they will try to visit in a year or so.
I will try to keep you all updated. I'm writing from my Dad's computer, so no pictures tonight. I will try to catch up as soon as I can after we arrive in Pusan.
Peace, Rob
Sunday, January 16, 2011
I Don't Want You to Die, Daddy.
Horyon and I decided a long time ago that we were going to be honest with Maxine about death and dying. We talked about my grandfather after he passed away three years ago, and she seemed to understand as well as one can expect a two-year-old to understand. Since then she has learned a lot, and the other day in the car on the way home from preschool she cried to me, "I don't want you to die, Daddy!"
I can't remember the last time I wanted so badly to lie. I wanted to stop the car, hold her in my arms, and tell her that I would not die, that I would always be there for her. I just wanted her to feel better, and to be reassured, and I wanted with all of my heart for it to be true.
Another example of why it is a good idea to make big decisions before the pressure hits.
I did my best to reassure her that I would probably not die soon. I talked with her about Heaven, and how we would be there together.
She was not in the mood for it. "I don't want to go to Heaven!" she cried. "I want to stay here! I don't want to move to Korea!"
Aha. There it is. As painful as it is for me and Horyon to tear up our lives, at least we've been through it before. Maxine was too young when we moved here, and doesn't remember it at all. Now we are selling our life here, bit by bit. When we sold her dresser she cried for five minutes. "I want to keep my stuff! I love my stuff!" I am hoping that going through this now will make her better able to part with stuff later in life, but it is absolutely no fun.
Earlier this week she figured out that we would be leaving this house and not coming back. She hugged the wall, crying, and said, "I don't want to leave this house! I love this house!"
I don't even want to contemplate telling her that she will not see Grandpa and Grandma for a long time.
Later Horyon told me that Maxine had watched a video earlier in the day in which a character had died, and it seems that it connected for the first time. A separation that lasts forever. An end to something that seemed to be eternal.
I tell myself that this is actually building trust with Maxine, that she is learning to believe what I tell her. I know in my head that I am helping her, but can be hard to believe. Fortunately, it works in the short term as well. For example:
In November we all got flu shots, and Maxine did not do so well. She screamed. She kicked. A nurse had to help me hold her down while she got the shot, and it bled afterwords because her blood pressure was sky high. It hurt her arm for a few days, because we couldn't hold her completely still, even after seeing Mommy and Daddy take their shots.
Then last week we had to get her last three immunization shots. It had been two months, which is usually an eternity for Maxine, but she remembered the flu shot like it was yesterday. We didn't tell her where we were going when we got in the car, but eventually we had to. The tears started, and I started a pep talk:
I reminded Maxine why her flu shot hurt so much, and talked about how we could avoid it this time. I made her promise, multiple times, pinky promise, that she would look at me, not the nurse during the shot. We talked about the antibody game she played on PBSKids.org with Sid the Science Kid. We talked about how being healthy makes you less likely to die. We talked about silly things, and our favorite songs. And when it was time she sat on my lap and cried, but she didn't scream or kick or thrash. She did her best to look at my face during the shot, as I reminded her that she had promised to look at me. And when she found that it would be one shot in the left arm and two in the right, the tears started to seriously flow.
But she kept her eyes on mine, and soon it was over. Soon she was just sniffly, rather than outright crying. She said "thank you" to the nurse and receptionist as I carried her out. She let me carry her out, understanding that there was a reason for the pain I had put her through. And then we went to Orange Leaf and got ice cream, even though it was after 5:30 and getting close to dinner time. There were smiles and laughs, and she said that her arm hurt less than before.
Maybe trust only grows out of tears. Maybe you can't really believe in someone until you've been through some kind of hell with them. If that is the case, then this move to Korea may be an opportunity to build my family, and strengthen us.
I don't think I will be able to convince Maxine that dying is not a big deal, because it is still a big deal to me. When she asked me if I was going to die someday and I said yes, I felt okay. But when she asked if great-grandma was going to die, it was a good thing that she was in the back seat where she couldn't see my tears as I said yes, someday she would.
At this point, I am just grateful that Quinten is too young to understand what is going on. Yeah, he's going to have and inflict a miserable 24 hours on everyone within earshot, but then it will be over for him. The new faces and places will be confusing at first, but Mommy, Daddy and Maxine will be there, so he will settle down quickly. And hopefully get over the jet-lag quickly as well.
I can't remember the last time I wanted so badly to lie. I wanted to stop the car, hold her in my arms, and tell her that I would not die, that I would always be there for her. I just wanted her to feel better, and to be reassured, and I wanted with all of my heart for it to be true.
Another example of why it is a good idea to make big decisions before the pressure hits.
I did my best to reassure her that I would probably not die soon. I talked with her about Heaven, and how we would be there together.
She was not in the mood for it. "I don't want to go to Heaven!" she cried. "I want to stay here! I don't want to move to Korea!"
 |
| Don't they look like they're ready to move? |
Earlier this week she figured out that we would be leaving this house and not coming back. She hugged the wall, crying, and said, "I don't want to leave this house! I love this house!"
I don't even want to contemplate telling her that she will not see Grandpa and Grandma for a long time.
Later Horyon told me that Maxine had watched a video earlier in the day in which a character had died, and it seems that it connected for the first time. A separation that lasts forever. An end to something that seemed to be eternal.
I tell myself that this is actually building trust with Maxine, that she is learning to believe what I tell her. I know in my head that I am helping her, but can be hard to believe. Fortunately, it works in the short term as well. For example:
In November we all got flu shots, and Maxine did not do so well. She screamed. She kicked. A nurse had to help me hold her down while she got the shot, and it bled afterwords because her blood pressure was sky high. It hurt her arm for a few days, because we couldn't hold her completely still, even after seeing Mommy and Daddy take their shots.
Then last week we had to get her last three immunization shots. It had been two months, which is usually an eternity for Maxine, but she remembered the flu shot like it was yesterday. We didn't tell her where we were going when we got in the car, but eventually we had to. The tears started, and I started a pep talk:
I reminded Maxine why her flu shot hurt so much, and talked about how we could avoid it this time. I made her promise, multiple times, pinky promise, that she would look at me, not the nurse during the shot. We talked about the antibody game she played on PBSKids.org with Sid the Science Kid. We talked about how being healthy makes you less likely to die. We talked about silly things, and our favorite songs. And when it was time she sat on my lap and cried, but she didn't scream or kick or thrash. She did her best to look at my face during the shot, as I reminded her that she had promised to look at me. And when she found that it would be one shot in the left arm and two in the right, the tears started to seriously flow.
But she kept her eyes on mine, and soon it was over. Soon she was just sniffly, rather than outright crying. She said "thank you" to the nurse and receptionist as I carried her out. She let me carry her out, understanding that there was a reason for the pain I had put her through. And then we went to Orange Leaf and got ice cream, even though it was after 5:30 and getting close to dinner time. There were smiles and laughs, and she said that her arm hurt less than before.
Maybe trust only grows out of tears. Maybe you can't really believe in someone until you've been through some kind of hell with them. If that is the case, then this move to Korea may be an opportunity to build my family, and strengthen us.
I don't think I will be able to convince Maxine that dying is not a big deal, because it is still a big deal to me. When she asked me if I was going to die someday and I said yes, I felt okay. But when she asked if great-grandma was going to die, it was a good thing that she was in the back seat where she couldn't see my tears as I said yes, someday she would.
At this point, I am just grateful that Quinten is too young to understand what is going on. Yeah, he's going to have and inflict a miserable 24 hours on everyone within earshot, but then it will be over for him. The new faces and places will be confusing at first, but Mommy, Daddy and Maxine will be there, so he will settle down quickly. And hopefully get over the jet-lag quickly as well.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Quinten Wasn't Finished...
If you don't like scatological posts, or if the previous post didn't do much for you, you might want to skip this one.
As if he thought we were unimpressed with his technicolor yawns (see Splatty New Year), Quinten followed up Saturday night's performance by blowing out the other end Sunday night.
For those of you who were wondering, yes, it is possible to fill a diaper to overflowing in one, foul shot.
However, Horyon, who is always looking on the bright side of things, pointed out that the smell of poo is less nauseating than the smell of upchuck. To me, "the glass is half full" is only a positive if the contents of the glass are not violations of the laws of nature.
At least I did not spend the night in the same room with Quinten, and we are hoping he feels better today. If not, we will be trying to get into the clinic on short notice, with more stool sample than they can handle.
Just to make clear, it is not my intention to entertain anyone with this little gem. It's just here to jog my memory later, when my brain has had the good sense to blank out the past few days.
As if he thought we were unimpressed with his technicolor yawns (see Splatty New Year), Quinten followed up Saturday night's performance by blowing out the other end Sunday night.
For those of you who were wondering, yes, it is possible to fill a diaper to overflowing in one, foul shot.
However, Horyon, who is always looking on the bright side of things, pointed out that the smell of poo is less nauseating than the smell of upchuck. To me, "the glass is half full" is only a positive if the contents of the glass are not violations of the laws of nature.
At least I did not spend the night in the same room with Quinten, and we are hoping he feels better today. If not, we will be trying to get into the clinic on short notice, with more stool sample than they can handle.
Just to make clear, it is not my intention to entertain anyone with this little gem. It's just here to jog my memory later, when my brain has had the good sense to blank out the past few days.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Splatty New Year!
On New Year's Day, someone in the Sack household must have overdone it, because there was a serious amount of chunks blown during the first full night of 2011.
Enough suspense: it was Quinten. We have no idea what happened. He at the same thing for dinner (fish and rice) as Maxine and her friend, Chae-eun, both of whom are just fine. Quinten himself has been fine today, including a three hour nap, but last night...
Half-way through his bottle he spit up. He only takes one bottle per day now, as part of the bed-time routine. We're hoping that will help us on the long trip (which is only three weeks away!). We both got a change of clothes, and while he was playing with Horyon, he did some serious regurgitating. We cleaned him up, and I put him in his play pen to sleep. After a very short time, he coughed, blowing out his binky like a cork in a champagne bottle full of barf.
Another clean-up, and we decided that I would sleep with Quinten in Maxine's bed. That way maybe I could catch him before he made a mess. The strategy worked two or three times in the night. Once loud enough for Horyon to come assist. I think that after that he didn't have anything left to hurl. We had been giving him sips of water, but not too much. The poor kid was so tired that he couldn't even put up a fight against sleeping. I rocked him gently, sitting up on my lap, wrapped in a blanket. I am better at ignoring the smell of sickness than Horyon, and he tends to get excited when she's around, so I usually get night duty.
By morning he seemed to be okay. He drank some water, and had some eggs. Horyon and I exchanged words over breakfast which caused Maxine to ask, "Are you guys fighting?" Pretty rough morning. She had to go to work at noon, and we agreed that I should stay home with Quinten. Fortunately, we have friends at church who could take care of Maxine, so Horyon dropped Maxine off at church in time for Sunday School, then went to do some shopping and eat before work.
Quinten seemed fine. Didn't eat as much eggs as usual for breakfast, but he later ate a whole banana. Through the whole thing he never had a fever, and in the morning he had a regular, solid poop in his diaper. I don't think he was really sick. Looking back, I had fed him dinner without feeding myself. Maybe I just put too much food in him. He usually feeds himself, and he is not that fast, so he doesn't eat as much. And after dinner Maxine had some pistachios (she tends to call them "statues", how cute is that?) which she shared with her little brother. Then he had warm milk. Perhaps rice, fish, pistachios and milk just don't mix well in toddler tummies. Not sure they would mix well in mine.
At any rate, Quinten had a three hour nap this afternoon, and got to bed on time this evening, so I think we are back to normal. For the next three weeks, anyway.
Enough suspense: it was Quinten. We have no idea what happened. He at the same thing for dinner (fish and rice) as Maxine and her friend, Chae-eun, both of whom are just fine. Quinten himself has been fine today, including a three hour nap, but last night...
Half-way through his bottle he spit up. He only takes one bottle per day now, as part of the bed-time routine. We're hoping that will help us on the long trip (which is only three weeks away!). We both got a change of clothes, and while he was playing with Horyon, he did some serious regurgitating. We cleaned him up, and I put him in his play pen to sleep. After a very short time, he coughed, blowing out his binky like a cork in a champagne bottle full of barf.
Another clean-up, and we decided that I would sleep with Quinten in Maxine's bed. That way maybe I could catch him before he made a mess. The strategy worked two or three times in the night. Once loud enough for Horyon to come assist. I think that after that he didn't have anything left to hurl. We had been giving him sips of water, but not too much. The poor kid was so tired that he couldn't even put up a fight against sleeping. I rocked him gently, sitting up on my lap, wrapped in a blanket. I am better at ignoring the smell of sickness than Horyon, and he tends to get excited when she's around, so I usually get night duty.
By morning he seemed to be okay. He drank some water, and had some eggs. Horyon and I exchanged words over breakfast which caused Maxine to ask, "Are you guys fighting?" Pretty rough morning. She had to go to work at noon, and we agreed that I should stay home with Quinten. Fortunately, we have friends at church who could take care of Maxine, so Horyon dropped Maxine off at church in time for Sunday School, then went to do some shopping and eat before work.
Quinten seemed fine. Didn't eat as much eggs as usual for breakfast, but he later ate a whole banana. Through the whole thing he never had a fever, and in the morning he had a regular, solid poop in his diaper. I don't think he was really sick. Looking back, I had fed him dinner without feeding myself. Maybe I just put too much food in him. He usually feeds himself, and he is not that fast, so he doesn't eat as much. And after dinner Maxine had some pistachios (she tends to call them "statues", how cute is that?) which she shared with her little brother. Then he had warm milk. Perhaps rice, fish, pistachios and milk just don't mix well in toddler tummies. Not sure they would mix well in mine.
At any rate, Quinten had a three hour nap this afternoon, and got to bed on time this evening, so I think we are back to normal. For the next three weeks, anyway.
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