life with the lieutenant

• Our 6th anniversary was an interesting one. It started out blazing hot, so Steve took Sam and the wagon down to a store to find some things to repair our apartment with. Molly and I walked to the bakery down the street to find a cake. This bakery is set up with everything right out in the open (cakes are in a fridge). So picture dozens of beautiful-looking pastries at Molly's eye level. Before we walk in, I tell her that we are only here to look for a cake, NOT to touch things. I keep reminding her of this throughout our entire time in the bakery. She does a decent job of just looking and sniffing. I remind her again that we are NOT TOUCHING anything and turn to pay the man for the cake. As I turn back around to check on Molly, I see her tongue touching a donut. And not a donut that I don't mind purchasing because donuts are delicious, but she is licking a donut filled with RED BEAN PASTE and UGH SERIOUSLY?! Naturally we buy the donut and Molly pretended to like it for a few minutes and then threw it away. 

freaking disgusting

• Later that afternoon, Steve and Molly ran up to post to go to the commi and Sam and I hung out at home. The sky turned BLACK and then the heavens opened up.

• Once Steve and Molly got home, we called a cab and rode up to post to see a movie about sheep. Molly somehow managed to fall asleep in the cab (cab rides here are anything but gentle and peaceful and sleep-inducing) and everyone was a bit grumpy about being taken to a movie. (Noted for the future, kids! Don't worry!) They ended up loving the movie and we loved not being caged inside our apartment. 
• After the rain and movie ended, the heat broke for a bit and we were able to walk outside without our faces melting right off our bodies!

hula-hoopin' ajumma

burn that energy

• After invading an ant bed with their feet, the crazies really lost their minds (hmm waking up before 6 every morning might play a small part? maybe?) and we had to do the walk of shame back up the mountain, carting two whining children in the wagon behind us. If we don't draw enough attention on our own, the screaming whining kids sure do their best to make up for it.
• We proceeded to give the quickest baths in the history of bathing, and chucked the kids in bed. Our original anniversary plans included sharing the cake with the kids. That plan was quickly aborted.

so cute, right??

• Then we celebrated surviving another day of sweat by doing a face mask together.

I LOVE this face mask. It goes on smooth and once it starts working on your skin, it fizzes and bubbles up and makes you look like the Hulk with a serious skin condition.

• The next morning brought another early wakeup, courtesy of our redheaded alarm clocks. I was in the kitchen and Steve was shaving. The kids were sitting on our air mattress playing. All of a sudden I hear crying and Steve runs over to see Sam with a discharged epipen in his hand, blood on his foot, and Molly holding the other epipen, uncapped and ready to go. The child literally stabbed himself with an epipen. At the risk of sounding like a basic white chick, I CAN'T EVEN. Whyyyyyyyy?????? I know that if I was to use it in the case of an allergic reaction, the next step would be to go to the ER. But what about an accidental discharge? I don't even know if any of the medicine had time to get in his body. I did what any other normal person would do and freaked the freak out. Basic google searches wouldn't even show us half the results because of our overseas location. (FRUSTRATING!) Then I called the nurse advice line at our clinic. I had heard from the officer in charge of the clinic that he kept the phone on him to make things easier, so I knew I'd get a direct answer. Except when I called the number, I got a Korean message that is basically the equivalent of "the number you have dialed is no longer in service." Except it sounded like, "ahleesooayesoh, aimnowahsimdreemneeda." I tried calling back a few more times, but kept getting the same message. So I called the actual clinic number. Which is now routed through the hospital in Seoul. I picked the option to do a telephone consult. Except that was just an answering machine. (And here we are, a day later, with still no response from that "consult.") After calling back again, I selected the option to talk to someone at the front desk/staff duty. Was met with the recording, "There has been an error processing your request. Please try calling back later." The only other option is to call the Korean emergency number, but the thought of trying to simply ask a question about an epipen- I could already envision the confusion. I pictured us riding in the Korean ambulance (glorified minivan) on our way to the Korean hospital and explaining that he stabbed himself with an epipen. And then the Koreans mistaking that for, "HE NEEDS AN EPIPEN." And then stabbing him with another one. So while going to an ER, any ER, seemed like the most logical thing to do, here it was not. Luckily, Aggie is a nurse and has nurse friends and made a few calls and reassured me after checking for a few things that Sam would be fine. And the kids' carry-on backpacks are now hidden. Silly me, thinking that having an epipen in his very own bag would be the safest thing for him in case of a nut emergency! OH SILLY ME. I am now carrying all the epipens and meds in my bag and let's just all hope there is no emergency situation at all, ever. Amen. Side note: I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE. NOW.

• After having all the morning fun we could have ever imagined, we had some people come by to pick up our Korean-plug fan, the AC unit in the kids' room, and all of our Korean-plug extension cords. In other words, $H!T'$ GETTING REAL. 
• I laid with Sam on the crib mattress while he watched some sort of Hot Wheels video on Steve's phone and at 5 in the afternoon, I just passed right on out. Kid shows are SO. BORING. 

Look at how happy this boring stuff makes him.

• Steve woke me up fifteen minutes later because I had to walk down into town to do some photos. I also needed to change. Unfortunately, Steve used my pants to wipe up a water spill in the kitchen while draining that AC unit we sold, so I was left wearing some questionable shorts and just grabbed the first shirt that looked like it might match and skedaddled outta there. Since all my bags were packed, I just carried my camera and phone (and fan!) down the hill and when I got to the location, I pulled off my lens cap and went to stick it in my shirt pocket. Except, my shirt suddenly didn't have a pocket. Because MY SHIRT WAS ON INSIDE OUT. You know what they say- you only have one chance to make a first impression. Good thing I'm not a professional! Because I sure didn't look the part. The pictures actually went really smoothly despite my sweating like a pig and laying all in the mud. And at least I knew why everyone was staring at me on my walk home.
• Another morning that started before 6 because why miss a sunrise if you can help it? And then our last meal at our kitchen table.

I made and froze something like 800 waffles before they packed up my waffle iron and that is pretty much all we'll be eating until we move into the lodge tomorrow afternoon. Get your insulin shots ready, ladies!

• The guys from housing were supposed to come at 9 to pick up our table and chairs, washer and dryer, and fridge. So when they rang out doorbell at 8, I went scrambling to grab a bra and Steve ended up answering the door in a beach towel and with shaving cream all over his face. Nothing says, "YOU'RE EARLY" quite like that answering the door. They set to work taking everything out and were done within minutes.

• Luckily we still have our two kimchi fridges to store cold items in and we will be able to do laundry at the lodge. I edited photos on a crib mattress on the floor and my butt is officially asleep. Steve cleared a few more things on post and now we are just trying to figure out how to avoid the heat while also not going insane today. Because it's Monday, and once again, nothing is open. Last night in our apartment! I still can't believe we're leaving.