Hello Age 30

Last day of of my twenties, people.

We started 29 about to birth the third child in a 4.5 year time period. 6 years of pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding has me beat. Feels good to know I gave them all I could in their earliest times - from womb till that magical one-year-mark when here in Hawaii, we celebrate with a huge wedding-sized luau (that's next month)...

April 2017

10am this morning.

I'm going through headshots from yesterday’s shoot with Kaveh. Two coffees down. holding baby Haea in left arm propped up against my left leg, pressed against the table, while she sucks away under my shirt, teeth latched on to the left nipple which means you can’t just pull her off or it is a skin rip. I’m basically stuck in this position till queen-bee decides she's done, could be 20 min or more.

I first shot with Kaveh in 2010 in the Waikiki, two-bedroom apartment I had before Makani, before babies. We had gorgeous wood floors and a lot of natural light coming in at that place, so it was a perfect mini studio for that first shot together. I didn’t know much about the dark-featured guy who ran after me to give me his card while on the set of “4 Wedding Planners”, but my gut is usually right and has proved some very valuable friends. 

Age 22

After all these years of shooting with Kaveh and our after-talks over coffee, I had never actually worked in his home until yesterday. Your home says a lot about your personality, your values, your habits…and I have to say his is lovely. Clean, slick marble counters, bamboo floors kept in perfect condition with lots of floor to ceiling windows and sliding doors letting in the natural light and crisper air of the higher-breezes of the Wilhelmina hills. His ancestry shows in the gorgeous, reddish, maroon Persian rugs throughout the living room and bedroom. The years he spent in Europe and French Canadian cities also shows in the minimalist type decor, the architectural details allowing linear spaces, the red, Italian-leather barstools, compact storage and modern, sleek, pendant-hanging lights. The Bookshelf of spiritual enlightenment, Bhagavad Gita, Teachings of Krishna, and mediation prayers all reflect the beauty of his late wife, a yoga teacher from Mexico. It takes a certain kind of person to attract such a peace seeking person. I mentioned to him that it shows me how kind and good of a person he must be to have her and a home that feels so clean and transparent.

We’ve changed a diaper and switched boobs since the first paragraph by the way…left handed typing is a skill I've yet to master. Kids are fighting over the iPad show. I have to let them watch it while I work. Can’t get anything done unless they are entertained or sleeping. Its basically a wreck of toys and shoes ever since Haea started crawling - that’s just life with toddlers folks. I put her down a second ago and she's half up the stairs already. I’d love to just block off the whole foray with a big baby gate - those big ones are a little harder to find on this island and it also requires a little handyman skills to set it into place which has been last on my list of ‘to-dos’ between the constant need to clean cooking materials to make the next healthy meal, or shi-shi bed linens that need to be washed yet again for the third time this week. I also just got through the tax documents that were due the previous month and and sorting through the files to box away in those banker boxes… And Elia is breaking my thoughts with, “Mom, Kanai is eating pizza on the couch, again!”

Ugh. That boy is the rebel. “Kanai, are you supposed to eat on the couch?” silence. “Kanai, get on the table, you know better.” ….wait for it…

“AHHHHH” his scrunched angry 3-yr-old face about to turn tantrum as I give him the mama-bitch look (You all wonder why moms can’t relax… you go clean my couch everyday then). He sees my look. Swallows his cry. Pout of defeat. Yep, you know better, baby.

We are now looking at shot number 209 of 378 photos to go through from the 2.5 hour shoot. Pretty typical for a portfolio shoot for me. This is the stuff people don’t realize takes so long - the going through the 300 photos and narrowing them down to ones that don’t have your eyes closed, your strands of hair blowing across your lipstick, your panties showing through with the light at that angle, or how that one pose of you hitched in that pair of jeans causes some love handles to overflow and cause completed distraction away from your face… Then of course, you have to go though editing, which thank god, Kaveh is so experienced in, of which, you crop out or smudge out the bra strap or the electrical outlet on the wall behind you. 

Can't lie, it's been a very consuming year. The more kids you have, the more your body wears down, the more your lack of sleep and drain of nutrients shows, the more mouths you have to prep food for, get vitamins for, shop healthy fresh groceries for. The more beds to buy and loads of laundry to pretreat, wash, dry, fold and put away. The more appointments you have to keep track of, time schedules to have plugged into a calendar, alarms to have as reminders for the bath, the gymnastics, the payments due for someones health insurance, school bill or hula class. It's harder to work on anything at all with someone always calling mom, crying, needing help to reach the sink to wash their doo-doo hands or needing to vampire-suck you dry every hour or so... cost of sitters goes up to and trying to find the right people to fit your integrity, energy level for your children, your lifestyle and your budget is more and more challenging each added child. Your love life definitely gets the hardest test and tug of your abilities. But hey, thats what i hear from every couple with infants... it's just part of it.

Getting away to get back into a non-mom day is a big deal. So hopefully, we can get a handful of the hundreds of shots to be a good selection showing what I am now - a little more worn in then I was a few years ago, some wrinkles around the eyes, a few gray hairs that came and went, the pressure from pregnancy weight stretched my shoe size out a half size more. At least I am more comfortable in my skin than before, more cut-to-the-chase with time as I no longer have time as a luxury. As the therapists, doctors, and clinic professional said to me at the most recent postpartum check up I had, the moms who have the least depression and the most energy to care for their kids are the ones who take their own individuality seriously, and make time for themselves more than the others because they refuel when they feel the have their own life in addition to their family instead of their life revolving solely around their family. So that the mission this year, this decade really - getting back to me. Its definitely a balancing act, one day at a time… so here we go, age 30.

Headshot by Kaveh Kardan 3/19/2018

Deep In the Tunnel

8 months. Its been that long since I’ve been able to talk about my life in a full page. Because with a third baby under 5 years, a husband that runs a company in the home and no immediate family to help watch any kids, I am consumed. You definitly are misunderstood at this point. People think they know, husbands know only half because unless you were pregnant, birthing, breastfeeding, working part time from home and elsewhere while cleaning, cooking, diapering, grocery shopping, household shopping, house repairing, receipt logging, doctor visiting, emergency visiting, blood cleaning, and cringing at the credit card bills getting you through the weeks you haven't slept more than 4 hours… you don’t know. 

This is where having friends to talk to is crucial. You feel so beyond everyone else’s complaints of their one child daycare costs or the complaints of the inlays that live with them and love and care for their child when ever they want a night out… Three kids under 5 is about $22-$30 an hour in Honolulu and its not just the money that is taking away from your chance to keep your love alive or your sanity, but its the fact that not everyone CAN watch you kid/kids…because some are great with one but certainly can’t mange two or three, or some are great with your rules and ways of living but are never on time or come in sick which gets all your kids sick. And then there are even those sitters who lie about who they are or their experience, or the ones who bring over people you don’t know while you are gone and the only way you know anything is from the broken language of your 3 yr old when you return home. Some sitters move away because well its way cheaper to live somewhere else or they follow a boyfriend. So when you do find those good ones, you will work with their schedule which of course is often all over the place since they are in demand. Daycare is about $1100-$2000 a month if they are under 2 yrs old and often that price doesn't cover full days or food. 

So life was already complicated with two and three made it clear I absolutely had to be full time mommy and housewife…Always dishes from cooking, always three baskets of laundry waiting to be folded while four hampers sit full to be cleaned. Buying fruits. milk, yogurt, eggs and meat every two days because trying to buy bulk at places like Costco or Sams Club is really hard when you have a baby who wants to be held and is too small to put in the shopping cart seat. Not to mention, you’ll have to change in the bathroom or go breastfeed in the middle of it all or you’ll be stuck in a huge line while she cries the whole time. And god forbid you have two more with you who have to pee at any given moment or can get out of the cart and run away in awe of some stuffed animal a few isles back. And the time to find parking to be able to take a carseat out - forget it. I don’t even have room in the van to put the bulk items because I have 3 carseats by law (until age 8) and a big double stroller taking up my trunk… So, men - don’t complain when mama is buying higher prices in smaller packages at the less-crowded, more-parking grocery chains, k? And Safeway delivery has SAVED me in this postpartum recovery! But you have to book them a full day before, ladies!

Don’t get me wrong, I LLLLOOOOVVVVEE my kids. I am so grateful to have someone so financial stable that we have the option to choose less stressful choices ( like in shopping ) but like so many moms have told me, “Staying at home as a full time mom was harder than any job I’ve ever had, more time demanding than anyone ever paid me to do, and I am lonely because there are no adults to praise you or feel unified with like in a workplace…You especially feel lost because you physically are going through more changes then you ever have in your life and no one can feel what you are feeling or give you compassion in the home you are the soul support for.”

— The 25 mom friends who have confided in me and I assume want to remain anonymous

So, yes, we stay at home moms have the joy of bonding and being so in tune with our children and husband’s life that it forces stronger ties, loyalty, and secures stability for them in the long run, allows less sickness because of someone consistent caring for them 24/7 and less mess because someone can attend to the house chores more regularly … but you can never prepare for the emotions and physical drains of motherhood that come with birthing a child. Ask any mother if they thought it would be as it is after children. If you love them, your life becomes around theirs because they are not capable of being self reliant for ANYTHING…even at age 4, my daughter cant unbutton her back bottoms to take off certain tops. She can't reach the sink faucet without a sturdy stool, can’t read the labels, can’t hold a dish well enough to truly scrub off the grime (although she tries), can’t explain that she’s extra tired because she’s got a fever coming on, can’t explain that her preschool friend destroyed her card she made for me and so she instead doesnt’ wanna talk that whole night… These are the basics that people don’t realize are mom’s jobs to “do” or figure out blind. And add more the mix, you are going back and forth between each of them at their different stage of life…

Redoing Kanai’s shoes because he put them on backwards.

        Meanwhile: Baby Haea started standing and is sucking on the bottoms of the shoes left by the door. (Why are the shoes left by the door? Because Dad came in from a tour to switch equipment and shoes and leave in a hurry.)

        Meanwhile: Elia calls from the bathroom that there is no more toilet paper. (She’s a girl, girls always need toilet paper.)

“Kana’i, switch your shoes (point to feet), I have to help Elia.” Pick up baby and pull shoe outta mouth. Take her to bathroom with me.

On the way there, Kana’i: “Mom, I need help! Don’t leave me! Wait!” starts crying in frustration and runs after me in his socks only to slip on the wooden floor and fall backwards. Deep Crying.

“Hold on Kanai!”

Grab a new toilet paper roll from the shelf that is too high for Elia to have reached anyway. (Why so high? Because Baby Haea now can reach the lower shelf and will eat it if it is there as she can fully crawl, stand, and obtain items in her arms. And she has proven to LLLOOOOVVEE swallowing toilet paper.) Put toilet paper on the holder and proceed to the sink to wash out Haea’ mouth. There is dirt in her mouth. She is smiling up a storm. (Why care to even wash? They can easily get sick like as in vomit, diarrhea, or fever from eating bacteria or toxins from uncensored items like what is on the bottom of a shoe.)

        Meanwhile: Kanai is bawling dramatically in the hall still yelling with tears, “Mamma! I need help! I can’t do my shoes! Don’t leave me! I big boy!” As I am yelling back to just wait. 

Put Haea down on the carpet in the kid’s room while I get his shoes on the right feet and hug him with irritation in my voice, “Baby, it’s ok! I just went to help Elia! I love you.” 

“OH no, Mom!” Elia yells from the bedroom. “Haea climbed on the bed and is leaning over the edge!”

Dash the 5 feet over into the bedroom to catch Haea by the legs as she’s headed head first off the bed railing side. Elia is on the ground arms open hoping to catch her. (Yes, what a sweetie of a sister, I am blessed!)

Kanai is yelling, “Mom, more bacon pweeessee!” completely unaware of Baby Haea’s fall. 

Mind you, we are trying to leave to get to preschool before the circle time begins.

“Kanai, you already ate! We brushed your teeth!” 

Silence. I got out to the living room to check on the silence. Elia is still looking for matching socks to wear even though even morning we tell her it doesn’t matter because we cant’ find all the matching ones ever. 

Kanai has his mouth stuffed with bananas, the only item that was left uneaten on the table - which was supposed to be Elia’s banana that she didn’t get to finish because she had to doodoo. Caught red handed. Big mushy grin. chunks falling out. God damnit. 

And that is just Ten min. By the time the kids are at school and I finally get to eat and have coffee, baby is hungry and needs to breastfeed. Dishes are piled from the morning. Hazardous toys from the kids morning wreckage must be cleaned up before Baby chokes on any of it while I am using the bathroom. Then of course laundry begins - usually with at least one partly shi-shi-d item or wet board shorts from Makani’s tours…Yes, you get bored of the home stuff. Especially after lunch when you wanna do something for yourself, but there are those piles of recipes to file or the paperwork for one kid’s mandatory medical info, immunization scheduling, your own follow up at the doctors for postpartum or breastfeeding issues, the extracurricular programs like Hula or Japanese Language which of course if you put one kid into, you have to put the other… but then mostly, your life is the breastfeeding and diapering guys. For real. Every hour a boob out which means you will be thirsty and hungry after, which leads to more dishes and more diapers to change…. and of course Makani comes in from work talking about the child-free lunch he got to have discussing important issues that involve many ADULTS which is my only little glimpse to the outside world sometimes and soon its time to pick up the other two… 

Maybe a few weeks would be awesome - yes, it sounds like a nice break from normal work… but do this everyday for 5 years, you kinda lose sight of excitement after awhile…thats where I am ladies and gentlemen… I gave birth to the first baby almost 5 years ago, of which I breastfed over a year, to be pregnant again, to birth again, to breastfeed over a year again, to be pregnant again… and we are at the 8months breastfeeding…almost to that one year mark where they can actually eat food; one year is the doctor recommended timespan - when their immunity builds the most and the mind enhances with your bonding; one year is when I can feel I completed my duty, finally. Days definitly blend together. Sometimes I defiantly fall asleep so tired or I have to leave the house mess the whole day just to feel sane. Some days I envy Makani’s work because it involves intelligent conversing with adults who appreciate you. Some days I just play with Baby all day and fuck the laundry - wait for it to build up and Makani feel obligated (He does help, don't hate him). And then some days I do what all the other moms with babies do, I cry in frustration. You want to be close to your kids and be the best mom, and then you also want to feel unrestricted and without forced hormonal, emotional binds like… Men.

To all you mamas out there, when they don’t say wow, you handle a lot - I know you do. Everyone says its only for a few years. But damn, Mama, for these few years, I feel you. 

When Your Kid Eats Poo

I never thought that would be my kid. Really, I don't think any mom predicts what chaos is lurking around every growth marker those first few years of child raising. But sh*t happens. Some kids are easy and their moms have no clue how easy they have it. Some kids are slower to catch on to things and others are way too fast to keep up with...

I've always given a lot of independence to my kids in the sense that, I don't just sit and play and cuddle with them because reality is, I need to maintain the daily life of housework, bookkeeping, grocery shopping and healthy meals which means, I need them to be self proactive for a bit in order to get through a few minuets of a task. Some moms don't care bout a clean house or organized work - understandably, your life is tied to the attached little guy, wacky hormones, no sleep, and breastfeeding - but I die if I don't have order. Maybe it is just that business sense in me but I need things to be clean, structured, easy to find; I hate clutter, I hate knowing bacteria is growing, I have a need for progress and balance, I hate to have unfinished work sitting on a desk, I hate an unbalanced account, I like things done on time. So, yes, I need to clean the piles of dishes so I have the pots and pans I need to cook the next meal (we have no dishwasher - old house) which we will be hungry for in an hour. So, I left Kana'i alone in the playroom with the non-choke-able toys and stuffed animals while PBS (the only safe channel you don't have to monitor for attitude, backtalk, meanness, or teen drama) is playing softly on the TV in the background - more than enough to stimulate him for literally the five minutes I am washing the two frying pans and three mugs (that's all!!!), right? Wrong. I guess that wasn't enough for him. Boredom? just curious? It happened only once ever, but still... 

So I hear some crawling on the wooden living room floors (one room over from the tiled kitchen), ok. I hear a friction noise, like cloth being rubbed against each other - but its hard to make out with the water running... "Kana'i?!" I call out, still soapy hands in running water. 

"EEhhhuuuggghhh" a weird belch sound... Oh no, is he throwing up?! 

Hand on my leg suddenly, its sticky. I look down at the little body bobbing round my knees. He's looking down...a penis. No diaper! Damn! I frantically look for a diaper around us... a few feet away - there it is, open, and dark mud like doo-doo in it... and the "mud" on the floor... and SMEARED out a few inches and then a couple drops on a trail to me... and a hand print of doo-doo right near to where we stand... F***. 

"NO! Kana'i!" I'm cringing. Wiping off my hands to attack that mess when he looks up and me and smiles -

BLACK TEETH. LIPS PASTED...

You ate your f***ing doo-doo!!!!??????

Holding back a hurl. Closed my eyes. Swallowed. You can do this. I just picked him up. Held him out far from me while he starts crying. I couldn't look at him. My face and reaction must of made him realize something was wrong. He was belting out now - mouth wide open with the chunks of doo-doo falling on the way to the bathroom. Straight into the shower - I just grabbed running water and started spurring it into his mouth, scraping out the sides of his teeth and cheeks with my hands. Don't puke. Don't puke. 

He was traumatized I guess, since he never tried it again... He's done a ton else since though. Curiosity didn't kill the cat. 

Like the other week, I'm in the bathroom for the few minuets I need to be a basic human and somehow, he has learned to push his little white chair up against the dresser to reach the diapering materials, and grabbed the baby powder. By the time I got out of the bathroom, he had baby-powdered their ENTIRE room (they share). All the toys, the bed, the table, the stuffed animals, his sister's barbies (and worse, their hair), the mini play kitchen, their shoes and the rug were covered in white powder. I got to most of it before I decided to take pictures for the sake of venting later. But the vacuum couldn't get all the powder stuck in creases or in places like the bed sheets (which you just have to shake out and wash) or things like the barbie hair... It is just really a bi-otch to have to clean when you already have a million other things to do, appointments to make, groceries to buy before traffic hits, and a very tired pregnant body. 

And then of course, he did that again. Even though I moved the baby powder, twice. Time-outs didn't seem to matter. Baby powder was too fun, I guess. So then you loose your cool and either yell at him or break down and cry by the third time...

And honestly, it's hard to stay mad at your sweet baby's face... especially when he now can say, "I sorry! Hold you! Snuggle Peez!" in-between tears... And then they do things that make you feel sorry for them, instead of mad at them... Like, when he gets stuck in the support rails of the chair and is freaking out until you rescue him (pic below).

I mean, every kid really is different. So all you mama's saying, "My kid would never-" you really don't know... Elia never did this kinda stuff, but Kana'i is just more fearless. He charged into the ocean when he could barely walk - not caring that he was choking on water, while Elia would scream and run from the wave that barely made it past her knees. Elia wanted to keep her clothes clean or change if getting dirty, but Kana'i is always covered in fish slime or dirt or whatever meat-dish was for lunch. Elia follows a bug around excited; Kana'i touches the bug and licks his fingers. Ugh. Boy vs. Girl? Maybe. But then some moms never catch their boys eating poo or interested in their diaper area...

Two weeks ago, I walked out of my room after being on the phone with insurance. I had to be in a room away from the kids as they always make noise and want all your attention everytime you get on the phone (all you parents know this is true, all you doubters, just wait till you have kids). I noticed it was very QUIET (=mischief)... Kana'i is bent over, butt naked (he can take off all his clothes at barely two years old, apparently), holding himself up with one hand, while the other hand is holding the pretend doctor thermometer from those toy kits, trying to stick the thermometer into his - you know.

"NO!" I yell. Don't yell. Don't scare him or he'll hurt himself. Be calm. "Kana'i, Honey, don't move." Smile. Holy F***! I hope it's not already in there! I walked over briskly and he rose up, showed me the thermometer in his hand and proudly says with a huge grin, "My butt!" 

I checked his okole - no redness, no swelling... couldn't see anything else in there. Whew. Ok. He's ok. But then I look around. He has the entire Play-Doctor Kit out, all the tools lined up and he is pointing to them all one by one saying proudly, "My butt. My butt. My butt..." 

Clorox. Everything. Spray. Soak. Dried. Sprayed again. Sprayed and cleaned all the toys that were out around the kit and possibly apart of the doctor ordeal. It was a long afternoon. A lot of "Honey, we only play like this with this, ok?" ... We never take his temperature that way - So I don't even know how he would have thought to do that. He doesn't see us put anything down there - and our doctor doesn't either. No, I didn't get a picture. Some moments are too exceptional to remember to capture. 

So conclusion? What to you do when your kid is the kind that eats poo, makes a mess, sticks things where they shouldn't go? I don't really know. I just do my best to get through it, calm down, tell him I love him, that it's ok - And try to remember, it can always be worse. 

Life before kids

I was a year out of college when I met Makani - and was trying to breathe after an early adulthood start (out of house at 16, in college by 17), a BSBA, long term boyfriends and managing retail shops, before getting serious in life again... So, I was having fun modeling and working promotions, getting in free to clubs and events, socially exploring, dating steadily but thinking kids would be another 6/7 years... But of course, I was pregnant within 6 months of Makani and I getting together, unexpectedly, and terrified. I was not afraid about being a mom but ... So soon? And without having had lived together yet or having a solid plan? Scariest decision I've ever made but so glad I decided to go ahead with having babies - they made both of us have to bond deeper than ever as friends, lovers, and parents but also in facing your true wants and needs on life... Things we don't usually know until confronted. 

A couple months into our relationship in 2011, at a bikini competition for Beach Angels Calendar shot by Orlando Benedicto...

Ha! I used to drink a couple bottles of wine nightly, no problem, and get up early to even walk and jog to work sometimes. Now, I can barely have one glass of wine before I'm too tired to handle waking up the every two hours in the night to breastfeed or change a diaper. And never can I leave the house on foot with two of them both needing diapers and food, both needing to be carried half the time, and not to mention your energy level drained to oblivion. I used to spend $40 at the grocery store without worrying that I would have to go back if I forgot something. Now it's $180 and a bitch to have to drag two fussy, tired toddlers into shop anywhere. I used to have only a Tampon, lip gloss, swimsuit and towel in my car. Now I have diapers, wipes, blankets, crunchy snacks, plastic bags (just in case), extra shoes, thermometers and band aids (just in case), water bottles, sippy cups, stuffed animals, books, Barbie, fake cell phone, dinosaur figurines, umbrella, a double stroller, a zoo pass, lotion for my ever-dry-from-washing hands, a shit load of crumbs stuffed into every crevice of the back seat...and god knows, I never get to listen to the car radio since my daughter started singing "Up, Down, Fuck you up."

 ...but would I change it? 

Celebrating officially, "We are Pregnant and Keeping Baby" with both excitement and fear...

Never.