the kims from south korea are genius!

I tried out the Giant Eagle Market District grocery store. Gotta say, I love love love it! It is a combination of a traditional grocery/kitchen store, with a little Whole Foods  thrown in. I am sure this store has been open forever, or at least since we started working on bringing the tiny toddler home, but news of it's arrival in Upper Arlington had not yet pierced my bubble. Another casualty of the crazy busy job I walked away from - officing from home and traveling every week did not leave a lot of room for keeping up on what was happening in the world at large. Toss in burying my mother, two trips to Russia, finalizing an adoption, keeping up with my big four and a half year old, and bonding with a tiny toddler and it seems there was just no time to keep up on what my local Giant Eagle was up to. But oh, the time I have missed. I could have been shopping at this amazing store all this time. Sigh...

Not only did I find everything I needed and so many things I didn't know I needed but realized I could no longer live without, I found these:

The tiny toddler and I enjoyed this tasty (and healthy) snack in Russia, and then again at the South Korean airport. If you have never had them, TASTE THEM NOW.

They are hard to find because they are made fresh in a "popping machine" and so are not readily available. My little man loved to play with these as well as eat them while we waited out our time in our tiny Russian motel room. They are low calorie and healthy, so I didn't mind how much he ate. The only reason I even bought them in Russia was because my tiny toddler, who, for unknown reasons would be wound up tight while in the motel room and then appear sickly and totally exhausted in public, raised his head off the grocery cart handle where he had been resting it as he slept in the baby seat and grabbed the bag off of a passing shelf. Not wanting a total melt down of a toddler I barely knew in a crowded grocery store in a foreign county, I let him hold the bag and, ultimately, purchased the mysterious snack.

While in South Korea waiting for our flight to Japan we stopped to watch the Magic Pop being made. An older Korean man dressed all in white stood behind a huge metal contraption churning out different flavors of the snack cake, most of which I was not brave enough to try. I did get a strawberry one for my new son though, which he happily munched on while we waited for our boarding call.

Today at Giant Eagle the man behind the large metal machine was making original, strawberry, and cinnamon flavored Magic Pops. The oh so much better than rice cakes treat transported me right back to that little motel room in Vladivostok. Back to when it was just me and my new son, alone and together for every minute of the day. Back to when he became my shadow, forced to trail after me down the hall as I washed our clothes in the community washer or settled our weekly bill at the front desk. Back to when we would spend hours laying on the double bed, listening to music on the computer mixed with the rain outside the window. Back to when my tiny toddler would sit on the floor in the tiny motel room kitchen quietly taking the Magic Pop and the bread out of the plastic bags and playing with them. I don't normally let my kids play with food but endless hours in a motel room with a 24 month old will weaken your resolve, as well as force you to totally throw out the 5 second rule. Back to the first few weeks of mothering my youngest son. And anything that can instantly take me back to when my boys were babies is a good thing! 

my little baby immigrant

The first time I encountered Immigration here in the United States was at the Los Angeles airport. I remember that the Passport Control/Immigration was housed in a large warehouse type room in the basement. It was hot. There were people everywhere. The plane we had come in from Hong Kong on was fully loaded, and everyone was tired, cranky, and unaware of our American standards for personal space. I remember that there was a line at Immigration and we had to wait a very long time just to get the chance to hand over the papers for our new son. I remember that our little 15 month old son quickly tired of his newly purchased stroller and was soon running about the expansive room, with his new, tired and hot mommy chasing after him. I also remember a long wait once it was our turn. A long unpleasant wait.

Three years later I found myself back in that same Immigration line. And not looking forward to it. This time I had a 24 month old with me, who was more mobile and independent than my first son. And I was alone. And I had no stroller. I took my time getting off the plane and walking downstairs.

I entered the expansive room and was surprised at what I saw. Or more, what I didn't see. My fellow passengers from Japan were waiting quietly in the many lines to enter the country- each passport booth was actually open! There was no pushing, no misuse of personal space. The room was calm, quiet and most importantly, not hot.

There were airport authorities standing every few feet, assisting passengers to find the right line. One of these helpers pointed me towards the American citizen line. "I need immigration", I told him. He pointed me towards a woman holding a walkie talkie and called over to her "She needs immigration." She came over to me asked if it were for me or the baby or both. I explained it was for the baby. I was expecting her to just point me towards the right line- after all, if it hadn't changed since I was there last I was pretty sure I already knew where I needed to go. But she didn't point me anywhere. Instead, she picked up her walkie talkie and very loudly said "I am sending over a baby immigrant. I repeat, I am sending over a baby immigrant." OK, that was weird. The entire room seemed to stop the quiet buzzing all at once and I felt every eye on me. I started to walk in the direction she was pointing. Before I could thank her she pushed the talk button on her walkie talkie again and said: " Did you hear me? There is a baby immigrant heading your way!" What? Why the need to announce this all over the room? What did they think this little baby immigrant was going to do? How prepared did they need to be?

There was no answer for a few seconds and then a voice came over the walkie talkie. "Is the baby momma coming too?" Oh My God. The entire room erupted into laughter. And me and my little baby immigrant felt very welcomed into the United States.