JT decided today that he liked being naked. I was in class/working all day and so was not a direct witness but J messaged me that our little boy kept taking his clothes off to run around laughing like a maniac. Huh. Whatever makes him happy I guess and as long as he doesn't hop in front of the front window we're ok? **Maybe I should just post short thoughts like this. That's manageable right?**
RESPONSES and UPDATES: RE: Evolving Evie...and Lien - I had a long internal debate on whether or not to post my picture but in the end I figured that the first step to acknowledging that I'm "not ugly" is to just open up and acknowledge that hey, this is what I look like. This is me. Just as I accept and respect not only Evie, but everyone around me, so too should I accept and respect myself.
Thanks to everyone who commented with compliments and words of encouragement as well as for sharing your own horror stories of mean classmates. Kids really are cruel and I shared your stories and comments with Evie who smiled and seemed pleased that she isn't alone.
Special thanks to HM for the fantastic link! It is hard this parenting thing, especially when you're working on yourself as well.
RE: Birthday wishes - Thank you for all the happy birthday wishes and facebook pokes. J and I spent a weekend away from the kids at one of the Westin hotels in San Francisco. He surprised me with a vase of flowers delivered directly to our room. We spent the weekend sleeping in and watching the Discovery Channel and Groundhog Day. We then had lunch and dinner at two fancy "Vietnamese" restaurants; The Slanted Door for lunch and Thanh Long for dinner with friends. Both reminded me that hey! this tastes like my mom's cooking!
Finally...RE: My aunt - Still no word on whether or not the authorities in Vietnam have done anything. It's pretty clear that my aunt has suffered some brain damage. She can no longer stand with assistance as her head hurts when she does and she can no longer move without shaking. In other words, she will probably not be able to work...for a long time. The horror of this event has made our lunar new year celebrations nonexistent. No one in the family has been in the mood for celebrating. My grandma still has no idea that her youngest daughter has been hurt. I don't know how long we can keep this secret from her. Everyone is afraid of her worrying and demanding to go back to Vietnam only to worry some more. J mentioned how wrong it was that no one is telling her what happened. If something horrible happened to our kids, we would want to know right away. We would be angry and upset with anyone who kept that sort of information from us. There IS no justification for keeping my grandma in the dark. No justification except that we would fear for her health and state of mind.
A few days ago I thought of my aunt and how she looks very similar to my mom. I imagined my mom's face bloodied and bruised and I couldn't stop crying at the thought that my aunt will probably not be able to live her life without pain again; will not be able to return to her business for a long time. She was the sole breadwinner for her family. I come from a long line of strong women who support our husbands and families in times when they are down and out. All this seems so very unfair, unjustified, and hopeless considering the lack of response from the Vietnamese authorities. Being so far away, "helpless"; that is indeed how we are feeling here. I told my mom about all your comments and wishes and they are so very appreciated.
****
ANIMAL SOUNDS
Anyhoo, it's been depressing around here...but hey, that's what toddlers are for. JT is my little ball of energy and still speaks toddlerese with a smattering of English and Vietnamese. He's very bright but mischievious and loves to joke and laugh. He disarms me with his charm every time. Yesterday morning, I was tired from a long work and school week. JT woke me up and we ended up making talking about animal sounds before I decided to record him on video. He currently knows that Cows say "moo", chickens say "bawk!", ducks say "quack", pigs say "oink", and sheep say "baa". But obviously, when on camera, one has to be dramatic and moo and bawk! are SO much more fun to say than all those other ones.
For some reason the video keeps getting lighter or dimmer and the title clips are off centered. I don't know if it's my camera or my video editing software. Hmm...might just be user error.
Dear Son,
Please remember that I am not posting this picture to embarrass you. I am posting this, to share your cuteness with the world. After all, after seeing you yesterday morning, with your hair violently coiffed into the perfect fauxhawk and red underwear, I couldn't resist finding a camera as soon as I could. Although the fauxhawk lost a few of its peaks as you resisted being photographed (as you settled into the inevitability of posterity and potential future blackmailing that is mommy with camera), I think you look pretty darn cute.
Love you,
Mommy
This morning JT toddled in like a drunken 80's party animal with his bedhead hair sticking straight up in a fauxhawk. His black sweater jacket, which he had absolutely refused to take off the night before, was unzipped but still attached at the base of the zipper. The sleeves of his sweater were pushed up to his elbows and he was pantless except for some red rocketship underwear. (Alas, he's still being potty trained, as the underwear was over a ripe pullup.) No amount of coaxing last night could make him put on pants that would cover up his precious underwear.
I burst out laughing at the sight of him and he whimpered and demanded a hug. "You're very lucky mommy doesn't have a camera on hand," I thought. Still, that image this morning deserved some sort of record for posterity.
12:10 Update: The boy put on pants. Fauxhawk remains.
It was about six o'clock on Christmas evening that a certain little boy proclaimed to all who cared to listen that he had had it. What exactly "it" was would be left to speculation as he screamed and kicked and flailed in my arms. I caught a foot in my face and decided that "it" might be this whole being awake business. Attempts at putting JT down for a much needed nap were thwarted by more kicks and pitiful streaming tears.
"I'm so sorry, he skippped his nap so he's probably really tired," I kept repeating to any poor relative who would look my way. J's grandpa was sitting nearby. JT's ears favor his, and the old man tried to whisper some soothing words, but the little man would have none of it and continued his kicking and flailing.
The rest of the family attempted to proceed with the motions of Christmas by passing out and opening presents. Perhaps they were hoping that the presents would soothe him. Unfortunately, JT opened one gift, an Elmo aquadoodle set from his great auntie, and decided he absolutely had to have the box opened so that he could play with it then and there. Doubly unfortunately, was the lack of space for him to possibly play with his present and he continued his session of screaming and flailing. "Poor little guy," I would say as I tried comfort him. "He's very tried huh?" Grandpa would say as he watched his great grandson.
At some point, amidst the gift exchange and crying, JT found that his shoes and socks had become unbearable and he demanded that they be taken off. I looked around at my grandfather in law's disheveled home, which showed every indication that a person who liked to horde things but who didn't have the energy or inclination to clean regularly dwelled there and decided that no, taking off one's shoes and socks would not be a good idea. Thoughts of germs and disease flitted through my brain as my resolve to choose the necessary evil of keeping my little boy's shoes on became my firm and final stance.
"Oh no sweetie, don't take off your shoes," grandpa said.
Of course, this added to the "it" that he'd had enough of and JT screamed and kicked some more as I left the room for a moment to compulsively wash my hands. Upon my return, I attempted to not going to full freak out mode as I noticed JT sitting on the dirty floor of my grandfather in law's house with a single naked foot exposed for all to see. He was fussing with the shoe on his other foot and I quickly scooped him up and got a kick in the arm. My firm stance dissolved as I had mercy on my poor little one and took off his other shoe and sock. Perhaps, if I carried him around and didn't let him touch the ground again, everything would be alright. However, JT then wanted to run around barefoot, and shrieked hysterically at the thought of being confined in his mother's arms.
Eventually, J and I followed the advice of his childless youngest uncle and took JT for a drive around the block. After all, it couldn't hurt, it would save everyone's ears for a little while, and hey, "it always worked for [J]!" The Sweet Pea never really favored his father much, but I was willing to try anything. For the first five minutes, the little guy kept whimpering, "my shoe! my shoe!" as we drove around and around the block. We had left his shoes at my grandpa in law's along with Evie and eventually, JT noticed his sister was missing as well. "My Evie! I wanmyEvie!" he cried. "I wanmyEvie! I wanmyEvie!" It was sweet and sad as he cried him self to sleep wondering where his sister was. I looked in the rear view mirror and caught the outline of J watching over his son. We drove around the block a few more times to make sure JT was asleep before we went back to J's grandpa's house. As I unbuckled and lifted my Sweet Pea from his car seat, he let out a big sigh before he nestled his head on my shoulder and found his Christmas peace at last.
****
How was your Christmas? Happy and full of laughter and loved ones I hope. To add a random thought to this random post, (and to continue our non-Christian Christmas thoughts), somehow, ironically, J and I interacted with no actual Christians on Christmas. Is that odd?
I also got my grades. A and B+ :sigh: B+'s are always difficult to bear. They make me feel guilty as they just mean I didn't work hard enough to get an A.
I think I need a new blog handle for the Sweet Pea. I mean, not to get into the whole thing about societal expectations of masculinity and how I shouldn't cop out and re-nick my boy something more "macho", but honestly, he's getting older and...yeah, I guess I don't really want anyone to be confused that the Sweet Pea is a she. When I started this blog, he really was my little Sweet Pea. He was just a cuddly, roly poly, little 14 month old baby boy who totally fit the image of a little "Sweet Pea". Now? He's now a...hold on, I'm counting...32 month old? He's losing his chub and he likes running around going, "Hai yah!" with karate chop action or racing his sister back and forth through the living room with his arms tucked like chicken wings. Before he loved anything that could possibly fit into his little mouth, now he's more particular and likes trains, planes, and automobiles. How typically male he is now and how typically female a title such as, "The Sweet Pea" all of a sudden seems.
So! What should I call him now? If you have a blog, how do you pick all the handles for all the characters in your life? Should I go do another Evie and just call him the nickname we use for him out here in the real world? Should we rename him something more big boy-ish like...I dunno...Mister Sweet Pea? (That is SO lame Lien.) Any suggestions? Or should I just stick with Sweet Pea because like a pink dress shirt, he's comfortable enough with his masculinity to go there? (Or is it that I'm comfortable enough?) Oi, it's SO much easier breaking gender rules with girls than boys.
I need to read two books tonight and write a few papers on them by class time tomorrow morning. Short papers true enough, but what with the business of life to be done, I hadn't had time to do this bit of homework. I think the kids miss me. I took Evie to one of the offices I work out of today and she was so excited just to have some time with just me I guess. She claimed she had a good time listening to my entertaining co-workers talk and mingle with their funny stories. In return for a glimpse of my adult non-mommy related life, she was extremely well behaved and impressed the lovely ladies at the office with her quiet ways. "Other kids would have been bored out of their skulls and bouncin' off the walls!"...or something.
I don't think the day was completely boring for her as we did have a nice mommy and daughter lunch. She chose sushi and so we went to a sushi joint near my office and each had a 99 cent ice cream cone from the Rite Aid next door for dessert. I really do enjoy these times alone with my Evie. Sometimes when you have two, it's hard to see the individual qualities of each child. Evie has always been quiet when she is amongst adults. Shy is not the word; reserved? Definitely thoughtful, she drew pictures for two of my co-workers that she interacted with today. In order for the gift to be equal, she drew them both the exact same picture. A small house with a bright blue pond.
It's been awhile since I've spent some individual time with the Sweet Pea and I'm well overdue. Where Evie is quiet, he's rambunctious with a whole different energy that is amplified by this particular stage in his young life. Everything in the world is interesting. Everything in the world must be touched and explored; that lamp, that rock, this vibrating toothbrush, mommy's hand, mommy's eyes, mommy's cheek. Lick! Ewwwwwwww!
Approximately 8:30am this morning, the Sweet Pea was sitting on the toilet in front of an appreciative captive audience. I waited with bated breath staring at his wee wee (that sounds completely awful, and yeah, we use cutesy names for body parts around here, but hey, that's what I was doing); in case it decided to make some pee pee in the potty. After a few minutes, he peed. Success! Applause all around, toddler boys were tossed in the air joyfully and jelly belly bribes are given. Hopes were high that today might be the end of our diaper days.
Fast forward to approximately 8:30pm tonight, I have been home for about an hour and my mom had told me how the Sweet Pea was a potty training wonder and hadn't peed in a diaper all day. In fact, she was so confident that he understood the concept of peeing in a toilet that she'd left him without a diaper. Of course, the Sweet Pea was no where to be found and I had to go looking for my little wonder to find out if needed to go again.
He was in our home office, next to J's desk chair staring at his crotch. One day I'll look back on today and wonder why the hell I needed to feel his bottom. Were the wet spots on the carpet not enough? Did I really need to feel that wetness for myself? Apparently I did, and felt my arm do a violent recoil as soon as my skin registered the feel of his soaking pajama pants. Back to the drawing board. Tomorrow we'll keep the pull ups on.
Dear Ms. Lee,
I am an admirer of your hair clips. My sister owns several and I think she looks beautiful with them. When she shares and puts one on me, I think I look quite dashing. They are the perfect clip for straight and thin hair such as mine and my sister's. I am writing, however, to suggest that your selection of Kiddie Clips is very limited.
The current collection perpetuates strict societal gender roles by containing design intended only for girls. After all, there are many young boys in the world who would like to share in the pleasantries of putting accessories in their hair (not to mention the obvious advantages of having a hair clip when one is short on paper clips). Why should little girls (and older sisters in particular) have all the fun and convenience?
Might I suggest a collection of hair clips that would appeal to your more masculine customers; perhaps designs with favorite male characters or themes such as pirates, power rangers, or skulls? Imagine the possibilities!
Thank you for your time and understanding.
Sincerely,
Mr. S. Pea
There’s something that happens when I’m sleep deprived. First of all, I’m not really present. Perhaps it’s a consequence of eyeballs being open for so many hours or that I’ve been forced to stay conscious for so long but after being up for more than 36 hours primarily in a sitting position in front of a computer or in a classroom, I feel separated a bit from my body as my head feels numb and my muscles ache. I had to work for 14 hour straight through the night and then head down to class to do a presentation. Needless to say common sense goes out the window as decisions are made by the gut rather than by the brain. I have a feeling war and malicious or masochistic acts and agreements are made when the brain is addled with lack of sleep.
This quite possibly explains why I have signed up for NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), which starts today. It might also explain why up until 15 minutes ago, I had a naked toddler holding on to me for dear life as he sat on a toilet for the third time in his life.
Somehow, sometime, I had allowed my mother to push me into potty training the Sweet Pea even though I have absolutely no fucking clue as to how to potty train a little boy. I mean, little boys are supposed to pee standing up right? Yeah, not a skill I know or can pass on. Hence the sitting on the potty with me singing the ABC song and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star by request and on repeat with my mind floating above my head and my shoulders aching. The naked toddler naked because he had no clue that he shouldn’t have peed in his pants and soil his too long shirt with it. It's highly doubtful he really understood that this would lead to him having to hold on for dear life lest he fall into the giant toilet that looks as though it could swallow him whole. Why don't we have a potty chair? I don't know. We only just started this afternoon when I discovered Sweet Pea running around with a flatter butt.
Needless to say my friends, we are totally unprepared for potty training. We are totally unprepared for NaBloPoMo. I wasn’t prepared to work and stay up for over 36 hour straight but somehow I was able to work through the night and then somehow made it down to Santa Cruz and back without killing myself or anyone else on the drive to and from. Somehow I was able to do my presentation for class without sounding too much like I was sleep deprived and unconscious with my eyes open. I’m not quite here and present for this yet, but as with everything in this business of being, I’m sure we’ll make it work. Somehow.
Working tonight, 6pm to 6am helping with our 24/7 production server monitoring. It's as exciting as it sounds. Then I have class all day tomorrow from 8am to 5pm, which means I'll have to drive down as soon as I'm done with work. So uh, no sleeping for me. I'm trying to tell myself that sleep is overrated. As is walking around the neighborhood with my children in costume so that they can beg for candy from strange neighbors. :sigh: I hope the engineer I'm covering will get his beauty sleep. My mom had to rub it in and tell me that the kids had a blast.
Ah well, at least I got to take them to the pumpkin patch on Friday, Evie's school Halloween fair on Saturday along with a city sponsored Halloween fair that evening (where my little dragon knight was freaked out by a dragon), and a pumpkin carving party on Sunday. Yeah, I guess it was only fair to let my parents take them trick or treating.
Here are a few pictures from Saturday. Yes, I do think they would literally die if forced to take a picture together.
I love these pictures. They were just sitting in our digital photo archives. We never printed them out and I barely remembered they existed. What's up with that? We're terrible with our digital pictures.
J and a 7 day old Sweet Pea on our first full day home from the hospital. It was a long wait to bring him home as there were some early complications. I remember we were so happy to be home at last. J and Evie were especially happy as they missed having me, us, home. They visited Sweet Pea and me in the hospital every day and stayed as long as possible, but it wasn't the same. I think you can see from these pictures how much J loved his new little Sweet Pea. (And still does.)
My poor little Sweet Pea doesn't actually get out much. His realm is our home where he rules alone during the working days with my grandma as his sole companion and servant. Most mornings he wakes up and goes searching for grandma or spends a few minutes yelling instructions to his sister on how to get ready for school if he gets up early enough to see her off.
Trips out the front door during weekdays are therefore quite rare for the Sweet Pea and so weekends foster fervent excitement for him. This morning was no exception, however, there was the slight difference that the Sweet Pea woke up early rather than late. Normally he wakes up around 10am but today for one reason or another, most likely having to do with my yelling asking Evie to get out of bed before she's late for Vietnamese school; he woke up early. Since he was up early and it was a Saturday, I had mercy on his poor confined soul and took him with me to drop off Evie at Viet school. Had I realized what HE thought of being brought along, perhaps I should have left him at home with his snoring daddy.
Upon dropping Evie off at the school gate, the Sweet Pea started screaming, "Evie! Evie! I'mago Evie mommy!" He kept crying and screaming, "EVIE! EVIE!!!" as if we were abandoning her for eternity as we watched her walk into the school building. "EEEEEEeeeeevvvvvvviiieeeeee!!! I'mago Eeeevvvieeee! [Scream.flail.SOB]"
The only thing I could do was drive away and promise breakfast. Thus with dry tear tracks on his cheeks, the Sweet Pea and I went to the local Whole Foods and he was ameliorated with a morning bun. We then ogled the produce and bought a tub of unneeded snickerdoodles and a sister was temporarily forgotten.
How was your morning?
Today is the fifteenth day of the eight lunar month, better known as the mid-autumn moon festival. For those of you who don't know, this is an important holiday for many cultures including Vietnamese and Korean cultures. Today, Koreans visit their hometowns and families and do a bit of ancestor worshipping. Vietnamese, well, my family at least, sit around and eat moon cakes and play with lanterns (we do some ancestor worship stuff too but it's usually the big people who handle that). See Sweet Pea and my nephew D for an example of proper lantern handling. Happy Autumn everyone!
PS because J is paranoid that people might think that we're bad parents. That lantern had a bazillion holes in it, especially considering it was actually individual panes of saran wrap smaller than his head glued around a wood frame that was duct taped together. Evie had made that lantern in her Vietnamese class. No toddlers were harmed in making or playing of/with that lantern. That and he only had it on his head for half a minute. There J, ya happy??? Sheesh.
Somedays, all it takes is a flip through the ol' photo archives to find that little something to make things bright again. This one was taken 3/8/06. Sweet Pea was only 11 months old, Evie hadn't started kindergarten, and we hadn't put our house on the market yet. It's hard to get them to take a picture together these days.
PS Sweet Pea is still a little guy. We finally made it in for his 2 year check up (he's about 28 months now). He's now 28.5 lbs and 34 and 1/4 inches tall. This puts him in the 25th percentile for height and somewhere in the middle for weight. The doctor said he was perfect. Yup. =)
A HUGE thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. I didn't end up sleeping till around 5am but just typing out my fears was a great release. To wake up, soldier through the day (we had 53 people show up! But not the stranger guy :sigh:) and find such incredibly supportive comments at the end of it was just...I have no words to describe it. All I know is I'm completely humbled by your empathy and compassion for my phobia which I had always thought weird and shameful. Additionally, some of you are too kind in your estimation of me. Thank you so much for your kind words. I do hope that if and when I meet some of you, that it will be the easiest meetings of my life.
Last night was long, but tonight has been equally trying. The Sweet Pea had two night terrors in the span of a few hours (he hasn't been diagnosed with a sleeping disorder or anything, but it fits all the symptoms and we've experienced enough of these with Evie to know what they are). J and I both knew that he was overtired due to the amount of activity in the house and that was a contributing factor. The first time we experienced a night terror with Evie, we didn't know what was going on and freaked out. She cried like she never cried before and I was sure the entire neighborhood could hear her (as I'm sure she heard the Sweet Pea tonight). For both kids, they all of a sudden from deep sleep start screaming; but not your normal everyday kid scream. It is a blood curdling, ear splitting scream that continues and is inconsolable.
As a parent, it is so hard to stand by and see your child in such a fearful state and not be able to comfort them because they won't let you. During a night terror, neither Evie or the Sweet Pea know who I am. They are just screaming "no no no" over and over again and kicking and flailing their arms. All of this, for us, lasts anywhere from 15 minutes or so to half an hour or 45 minutes. I'm not sure what is more disturbing, the shrieking and flailing or the fact that they just don't know who we are when they're experiencing this.
The first several times with Evie were difficult and scary as we had no clue what was going on. The night terrors usually happened when she was recovering from an illness or we had been out or attending to something which caused her to go an entire day without a nap. We would try to console her to no avail and hold onto her flailing body so that she couldn't kick or smack us. We are Evie's and Sweet Pea's favorite people in the world, but during these night terrors, we were the same demons they were running away from. They kick and rolled away if we even came near them. If these happened in the middle of the night with Evie, we'd be SO tired that we'd eventually start screaming ourselves for her to wake up. We even went so far as to splash cold water on her face to try to get her to actually see us for who we are; her loving parents.
These early night terrors lasted for an hour sometimes. We've since been able to handle them a bit better, although the how soon these terrors end are out of our control. We're no longer asking, "What's wrong with Evie/[Sweet Pea]?" or screaming for them to wake up. Instead, I make sure that they are in a safe location away from the edge of the bed so that if they do roll around, they won't fall off. I try to caress or rub a part of them that normally comforts them such as their back or legs as much as I can with the kicking and flailing legs and arms. Sometimes I have to hold them tightly against me so that they can't kick or flail as much and take some of the blows in order to try and soothe them. I say over and over and over again, gently, "Mommy's here, I'm here, it's ok, I've got you, shhhh..." These are the same things I whisper when I hold them close when they're hurt or afraid. Similar words are spoken by mothers (and fathers) everywhere when their children need them as if there is some special power in a parent's murmured promise and smooth touch that takes away pain and worry.
When my kids are having night terrors, I test this magic. Sometimes, it takes a long time and I wonder if it truly works. It's like a mantra that I repeat over and over as I try to comfort them as best I can without distressing them any further. Perhaps the magic is that it calms me and not them and they sense my calm and slowly climb back to recognition. Or, perhaps it doesn't do anything at all and it is just a natural end to the night terror. I hope it is really the former because I do feel more calm when I repeat the mantra and eventually, my little one hears me calling, stops flailing, and buries their sobbing head into my chest and hugs me back.
Note: There was period of a few weeks between the first photograph, which was taken today, and the one at the bottom of my sleeping Sweet Pea. You can tell because he had a haircut between the two pictures. I unloaded our camera this evening to find the sleeping picture sitting in a random folder. He looks so peaceful and beautiful, the way he always looks when he sleeps with his lips slightly parted. I had to post it.
There’s something comfortable about having a separate culture, language, and heritage that you can wrap yourself in. Growing up, Vietnamese was a secret language and Vietnamese culture was something that I could talk about with other people and find a special bond simply because of shared cultural experience. It was easy for me to retain the Vietnamese language and some of the cultural practices (as far as my parents knew them anyway) when all my family members were Vietnamese and all our family friends were Vietnamese. In terms of identity, it is easy for me to claim that I am Vietnamese American, because my life and existence has been so engrained with Vietnamese linguistic and cultural knowledge and practice. That practice was only possible for me because of the family and family friends who shared the same heritage. My children however, will have another culture to wrap themselves in, but it won’t be Vietnamese, though it will contain Vietnamese elements.
The Little Goose and the Sweet Pea are going to have a multi-cultural upbringing. Even if I wanted to, no amount of effort on my part will prevent the fact that they will not have a “typical” Vietnamese American upbringing. Their dad isn’t Vietnamese, the 1980s and 1990s are long gone and the people they have surrounding them by the bonds of blood, marriage, and friendship are not only solely Vietnamese. Their upbringing is going to be radically different from mine. It’s my job as their mother to help them appreciate all of it.
My children are blessed with the fact that they have a pan-Asian American heritage and they have a claim to each and every culture. They may not have the experience of children who have parents of the same culture, but they will at least have the option of learning about these different cultures and understanding that once upon a time, an ancestor of theirs was someone of that culture and that they owe their existence to them. Some of these cultures will be more prevalent in their lives than others. I’m fully Vietnamese American and my parents play a huge role in the lives of my children. They are both somewhat bilingual because they spend so much time with my parents. In the fall, Evie is going to be enrolled in Vietnamese school so that she can retain as much of the language as possible. The Sweet Pea will probably be enrolled in Vietnamese school in the future as well and so long as we live near my parents, something of Vietnamese culture will rub off on the many trips to the temple with my mom or perhaps through the stories and songs my grandma sings to them.
In addition to the Vietnamese, they’ll be exposed to Korean culture through their Korean great grandmother and her cooking. Because of their Korean heritage, they understand what it feels like to wear a hanbok. They’ll know that kimbop and sushi are two different things. While J and his mom aren’t really knowledgeable about Korean traditions or language, J would never leave out that he is of mixed cultural heritage and his mom would never say that she was anything but Korean American. Part of a Korean American heritage includes wearing hanboks on special occasions and eating galbi, kimchi, soon du boo, and kimbop while telling your great grandmother that you love her, even though you can’t speak her language you practice saying kahmsahmnida. And maybe, just maybe, when you grow up, you’ll take a class and learn some more to reclaim the history that was lost but was preserved, if only a little bit, by food and love.
Or maybe, just maybe, the Little Goose and Sweet Pea will want to learn more about Japan and their Japanese American heritage. Perhaps they’ll remember all the Anime we have in stock just waiting for them to be old enough to discover. I can only hope that their great grandfather will be around when they’re old enough to ask about the internment camps and what it meant to be Japanese American once upon a time in the land of the free. In the meantime, they’ll spend at least once a month or so with their grandpa, picking fuyu persimmons off the tree in the back yard and occasionally going to a daruma festival or two. J and I will probably take them to a Japanese American museum, like the one in LA so that they can remember where their last name came from. Perhaps I’ll even get them to understand that no family gathering on the Japanese side is complete without Uncle R’s spam musubi.
Of course, to say that my kids only have Japanese, Korean and Vietnamese American cultures to choose from is limiting them to just the cultures of the people they are related to by blood. More than likely, they’ll also be exposed, if only by a little bit to the cultures of the family members who are related by marriage like their Filipino aunties, their white grandfather, their Taiwanese grandmother, their Chinese uncle and future Hispanic uncle; not to mention all our friends who range from African American to Indian American to a whole bunch of things together. Who knows, perhaps in the future as my cousins and siblings get older and marry, they’ll be exposed to even more as new family and friends are added to the mix. No, my kids won’t have Vietnamese American culture to wrap themselves in, they’ll have something even better, they’ll have an upbringing that is as multi-faceted as they are and their culture will be more unique than anything I ever had. That’s a good thing. I’m so glad I get to experience it with them and I can’t wait for more.
Pretty awesome eh? Many thanks to Daddy In A Strange Land for finding this hubby approved shirt for me. Can't wait till it gets here...
This is actually a meme you ask for rather than are tagged for. Basically, you tag yourself by commenting on a participating blogger's blog, "I am an ego maniac." They then provide you with 5 questions they would like you to answer. My friend Daddy In A Strange Land asked me these 5 questions after I responded to his own 5 questions asked by Susan over at ReadingWritingLiving with "I am an ego maniac." You too can be an ego maniac if you like. =)
1. Describe your fantasy perfect bento box, container and contents.
I honestly love the look of traditional wood boxes. So I guess, my “fantasy perfect” bento box would be something like a round wood box. If it were somehow beautifully arranged with at least the following, I would be happy:
a) My favorite fuits, mangosteen - which CANNOT BE BOUGHT FRESH IN THE US, URGH! and raspberries
b) Good dark chocolate - at least 67% cacao, but no more than 80%
c) Good white chocolate
d) My favorite pretty veggies - baby carrots and broccolini
e) My favorite dish of the day - which changes since it would all depend on what I am craving at the moment, which becomes my favorite dish, like right now I would love to have some really really good galbi with radish kim chi over rice, mmm…
2. If you could design your dream job, what would it look like?
Once upon a time, my dream was to be an anthropologist specializing in early Southeast Asian cultures since I’ve always been interested in history and the nature and evolution of societies, especially those that affect my own modern experience. However, I couldn’t stand the idea that I’d have to get down and dirty and dig up things, anyone who knows me well enough knows that I cannot stand being or feeling dirty. Thus I moved on to my next love, Astronomy…and then I took an astronomy class and remembered that I hate math. No one ever tells you that studying stars has a lot of mind boggling math involved. My brain is not actually allergic to math like some people I know (ahem, including a certain friend who happens to be an accountant but never wants to figure out the bill when we eat out together, you know who you are) but my first astro-physics class really killed that dream. Finally, I thought to hell with it, my parents will take care of me if I’m poor (cuz I’m spoiled like dat) and decided that maybe I could try my hand at writing and became a literature major (which…still doesn’t quite work out since…well, have you considered how much a literature major normally ends up making???)
The moral of this story, is that I don’t know what my dream job is, it’s constantly changing with the circumstances I find myself in not to mention how much I like or dislike aspects of the occupation which I may not have thought of. I imagine anthropologists might actually have to travel quite a bit and astronomers would probably have late night hours and so neither of these professions, regular travel and late night hours aren’t actually things I’d consider right now because I have a family with whom I’d rather spend my time. (Although, my current job does require occasional travel and LOTS of late nights, it’s at a tolerable level.)
Now that I’m a parent, primary breadwinner and student, my perfect job is one that provides a decent salary with benefits along with a flexibility that would allow me to not only have a life with my family but also take classes as well. I should also mention that this dream job would have to be an occupation that I am able to do well but is also challenging with room to learn more. Thankfully, my current job fits the criteria. Once I’m done with school and move on to law school or when my kids get older, perhaps my needs will change and I’ll have to revise my dream, but right now, it’s pretty nice. I get to telecommute two days a week (and then some if I really need to) plus 27 days off per year y’all!
3. What lessons do you want your kids to take from their multi-ethnic Asian American heritage?
I have a lot of lessons I hope my kids will learn about their heritages, however one of the most important is the history of how they came to be here. Whether it be the history of how their grandparents (and mother by the way) escaped from Vietnam in a leaky boat only to spend nine months in a Hong Kong refugee camp waiting for an uncertain future, or about great grandparents who escaped from North Korea, not just once, but twice. Or the great great grandparents who came to the US over 100 years ago and who were forced to abandon everything they owned due to heightened xenophobia and racism during WWII and live in internment camps.
They need to know these things because they are American and they should never ever forget the price that was paid for them to be American. No matter what the government or anyone else says and even if some people look at them and ask them stupid questions about where they come from as if they didn’t belong here, they are American. They MUST know that they belong to this country, they own a part of it, their ancestors EARNED that for them.
4. If you could live anywhere, where would you live and why? I already live where I want to live! I live in the San Francisco Bay Area, Oakland to be exact. Here's why, no matter where I go, Oakland and the Bay Area will always be home:
a) The weather! - We Northern Californians are SO spoiled, especially Oaklanders when it comes to the weather. We have gorgeous weather almost year round with temperatures normally between 60 and 75 for most of the year (not too hot, not too cold). It’s warmer than San Francisco and cooler than San Jose and usually sunny.
b) The diversity! - A lot of towns claim to have diverse populations but Oakland is truly diverse. There is no clear majority of any one race. African Amercicans make up approximately 30 percent, whites approximately 25 percent, Asians about 15 to 20 percent, Hispanics about 25 percent and the rest being mixed and “other”. The socio-economic run the gamut from super poor to super rich and I think I read somewhere that we have the third largest gay/lesbian/bisexual population in the country. I have friends from several different walks of life, races, and economic levels and my kids get to experience that diversity first hand. Some people say it’s not the reality of American life, but I think I like my reality better.
c) The food! - Lots of diversity means lots of yummy different kinds of food to eat. I could have pho in the morning, soul food for lunch, and some jerk chicken at night. With plenty of snacks of various other ethnic foods in between if I so chose (unfortunately, my schedule limits me to two meals a day or something :sigh:)
d) The surrounding area! If I ever get tired of Oakland, other great cities are less than half an hour away. Berkeley butts Oakland to the north, San Francisco is a short drive west across the Bay Bridge, and San Jose is only about 45 minutes south. And then of course, there are all the cool little towns and cities in between and not to mention the fact that places like Sonoma/Napa, Yosemite, Monterey, and Lake Tahoe are there for daytrips or weekends away.
e) The sports! - I am a sports fan. Baseball is my sport of choice and we have a great team in Oakland. The Oakland A’s consistently do well for a team with maybe about a quarter of the Yankee’s and Red Sox’s budget every year. For football, we have the Raiders who I don’t follow but they’ve got cute colors so they’re cool with me. And finally, the Golden State Warriors play here. Not even San Francisco has as many major league sports teams.
f) My family! – Of course.
5. What’s the best thing and worst thing about working (partially) from home? The best thing? Seeing your kids all the time. The worst thing? Seeing your kids all the time and not having clear hours or set times when work is done and can be left alone.
Thanks to DISL for the questions. Want your own? Comment "I am an ego maniac." =)
Two is...
1) Crying and screaming at your sister one second, then eyeing her granola bar the next and asking, ever so calmly, "Evie, I wan some." When she breaks you off a piece you say, "tank chu."
2) Not being afraid of flamin' hot cheetos.
3) Not yet fully understanding the realities of physical space considering you just got stuck behind the TV.
4) Giving mommy kisses for the heck of it rather than being heckled for them.
5) Giving your big sister a huge hug and kiss this morning (which mommy had NO camera on hand for!!) because it's your birthday and she screamed, "Happy Birthday [Sweet Pea]!"
6) Looking mommy in the eye with your lips rimmed red with hot cheeto dust and saying "hot" in two languages.
7) Not crying about it and calmly drinking your juice to take care of the spicy.
8) "Tall" and lean around the legs with the slightest hint of a little pot belly, and cheeks that are reminiscent of baby...but just a bit past that.
9) Being diabolically clever with the "toys" you find for yourself. Who would've thunk tossing a penny around would be fun. Although no, the penny does NOT belong in the DVD player.
10) Incredibly cute.
Happy Birthday Sweet Pea! It's only 10:47am, and you've only been 2 for so many hours, but mommy can tell she's in for a big year.
P.S. For those of you critical of my allowing my baby to have flamin' hot cheetos at 10 in the morning...hey, we're on vacation!
