Baby's Life lessons

As usual, Elton laid his hand on my belly tonight to feel the baby's kicks, turns and punches as he spoke to it. It almost seems like our baby knows it's his daddy talking to him and wants to interact the only way it can right now - by kicking me! 

I whispered excitedly, "We're going to meet our baby face to face in three months! Can you believe it?". Elton smiled and slowly said, "It's going to be the first time you'll understand how much your parents love you." I was stunned to silence. More often than not, I've always thought of myself to have turned out so differently from my parents. Hardly have I thought of myself to become like them. But somehow as I responded, the words flowed out like water, "True." It was the only thing I could think of to say. Amazing. My baby is going to help me see the world in a whole new way. 

Chicken Soup

I've been reading this book my sister-in-law, Selina bought me called "Chicken Soup for the Expectant Mother's Soul". It's truly been a blessing. Each story seemed to have been written just for someone like me - someone who's going through all the ups and downs of pregnancy, missing the life I used to have yet excited about the new life I'm entering into, frustrated about feeling exhausted all the time yet amused each time I feel my baby kick within my belly, exasperated about not being able to reach my toes anymore yet loving it everytime Elton helps me wear my socks, and nervous about parenting for the very first time, hoping I don't screw up too much yet somehow knowing deep inside that this baby is the missing piece in my life. I groan about the tribulations of pregnancy some days but then I'm reminded of the millions of expecting mothers out there in the world going through the same thing and I feel privileged and blessed again. As with any woman about to be a mother for the very first time, it's a pot of mixed feelings. 
This story I read today by Gayle Sorensen Stringer that really touched me heart: 
                In my previous life, before I was reincarnated as a mother of three, I wore clothes that fit and matched.  wore makeup and curled my hair every day. I had my eyebrows waxed and my nails done. But no one gave me graham cracker kisses. No one every told me how pretty I look in sweats.
                In my previous life, I read Time magazine and the newspaper. My repartee of regular television viewing transcended Arthur and The Magic School Bus, and I devoured all the bestselling novels. But on one asked me to read The Velveteen Rabbit at bedtime. No one ever requested The Little Engine that Could.
                 In my previous life, I had a career and friends who were more than three feet tall. People asked for my opinions and entrusted me with important projects and confidential information. I had conversations where not once was mentioned snacks or potties or play dates. But no one asked me my favorite color or why the sky is so blue. No one ever wanted me to sing.
                 In my previous life, I had a life. I frequented aerobics classes, restaurants and the theatre. I hosted parties where the themes had nothing to do with Star Wars or Winnie-the-Pooh. I shopped for myself and slept late on weekends. But no one made me Valentine cards. No one ever gave me dandelion bouquets.
                 In my previous life, I traveled, and my destinations did not hinge on theme parks or swimming pools or nap schedules. The Mayan ruins of the Yucatan, snorkeling in the Caribbean, museum hopping in Italy, Kabuki Theater in Japan...these were my playgrounds. I was the queen of the road and my destiny. But no one asked me to push the swing higher. No one ever invited me to splash in puddles or roll in the snow.
                 In my previous life, I held my emotions in check. I did not stomp my feet or grit my teeth. I could not easily be diminished to tears or tirades. I considered my demeanor as laid-back and easygoing. But no one made me care enough to cry. No one ever just loved me, anyway.
                 In my previous life, I was free. I could carve my own path and follow my dreams. Nothing stood in my way. But the path was unsure and the vision blurred. No one ever gave me purpose enough to soar, Now, I endlessly rearrange piles of laundry, crumbs and toys. I am pulled and tugged, hassled and harassed, stepped on and sat upon, and desperate for some solitude. I am jean-clad and juice-stained, bleary-eyed and graying, underpaid and overwhelmed. And sometimes I wonder who I am and what I've become. Then, one of my children shouts, "Mommy, I need you!" and it is perfectly clear.
                I am the center of the Universe. I am MOM.

Pre-marriage Class

A woman signed up for this class. A few days later, her fiance called the class instructor to cancel. He said, "I'm in my 50s and was married before so I've been there, done that. I've danced the dance and I don't think I will get anything out of this class so we're backing out."  I've just started going to a pre-marriage class with Elton. To be brutally honest, I've always been skeptical about these classes in the past. Everytime I heard a friend talking about it, I kind of just rolled my eyes and thought, "Oh boy, another silly recommendation by a church." But this time, call it curiosity, age or perhaps just being tired of going through too many failed relationships, I figured it couldn't hurt. Elton's openness to go actually generated more interest to endure it for the next eight weeks. Since we've started, I've realized how wrong I was with my skepticism. Each week of self-analysis has opened up discussions on how important communication is between 'life partners'. We have weekly readings as homework and even exercises to complete, prompting us to answer brutally honest questions about ourselves. I've often been surprised to learn things about myself in these introspective moments.  As much as we dread putting aside approximately an hour a week to do our homework and complete exercises, these personal discussions have become the most intimate moments we've shared, opening ourselves up in a way we probably would never broach, either out of shyness or just pure lack of time. It's shown me that no matter how right someone feels about something, it doesn't warrant being self-righteous and putting his/her partner down with hurtful words, dismissing their opinion or disrespecting the person overly or even subtly, which can often hurt even more. I'm learning how crucial it is for marriage to last in the long run, to consciously choose to respect my partner as an individual with their own thoughts and reasons for their actions and to realize that we are partners in reaching an understanding that we can both live with in the long run. 


We invest so much on all kinds of classes and celebrate passing exams and yet, we take this 'know-it-all' stance on marriage classes, when we cannot even agree on a universal definition of what 'Love' is! The fact is, we are individuals who are constantly changing. Nothing in life stays the same. Why should we think that we humans are any different. Life's circumstances, people we meet, things we see and hear, the birth of children, added responsibilities and pressures - all affect us, slowly changing our opinions, ideas, motivations, feelings and assumptions as we grow. Often times, these elements cause two individuals to grow apart.  I've discovered that some people take weekend marriage refresher classes every every once a year or couple years. Sounds like a good idea to me. Allows us to step back, refocus on each other, reassess our goals, priorities and get re-aligned with each other's feelings and direction in life. Because if not, marriage can be a very lonely and hurtful place. We can't create a perfect marriage but we can have a better marriage, if we have the courage to change....

Role models

Uncle Ben and Rainey

Since my pregnancy, I've begun pondering on the importance of setting a good example for my child and it dawned upon me how important it is to grow up being around positive role models. Somehow, life has a funny way of teaching us things. Often, the biggest lessons we  remember are not from what is directly taught to us. Rather we learn quickest quietly watching from the background when people are not consciously teaching. Parenting in my opinion, is the hardest task ever handed to any adult on their personal achievement list. I can think of ten times more adults whom I think should not have been parents than ones I think turned out to be great ones. I'm not discrediting the fact that people do try their best but I personally believe that some people naturally have the right personalities to be parents and some just don't. Nobody's ever ready to be parents. But it's worth seriously considering what it entails before deciding to become one. 


Unfortunately, I can honestly say that while growing up, positive role models were the exception rather than the rule. Somehow, all I remember seeing and hearing were a lot of male promiscuity, screaming, wives crying, messed up marriages and overbearing chinese parents who constantly measured their children's worth by pegging them against other (usually) smarter children. (Dumber kids are never used as an objective IQ assessment since it would defeat the purpose of perpetuating over-achieving attitudes in one's child). Perhaps it's a chinese thing to be over-achiever parents who liberally dish out back handed encouragement via criticisms. I cannot recount the number of times me mother yelled at me, "I do all this for you and what do you give me in return? Nothing! You're useless!" I was never praised for doing something well because there was none to compare to! Since no other kid excelled at what I did well, in her eyes I was a plain failure of a child! My mother was by no means a bad mother but believe you me, there was a lot of room for improvement especially with encouragement and fostering self esteem in a rebellious, spirited, fiercely independent child.  


Then I thought of my Uncle Ben. I have deep seated memories of conversations with him during my teens. They were few and far in between but enough for me to realize he was different.  As an executive in the music industry, he hung with some pretty colorful characters and was one helluva cool cat! He was one of those guys who I seemed to know how to play the game but had the sense to know when to draw the line. He was quick witted and always had a punch line for anything thrown his way so I found him quite intimidating but intriguing. I kept my ears peeled around him, constantly waiting for his smart one-liners. And he never disappointed. When I was 19, we had what I would like to call our first adult 'man-to-woman' talk. He looked at me straight in the eye, treating me like an adult and said, "Sandra, always remember that you can negotiate anything. In fact, you should negotiate everything, even when they say no. Never forget that." Then proceeded to enter into a 30 minute debate with me, rebutting every protest and excuse I made before finally shutting me up with a best seller to take home as reading material. It would be the last serious talk we'd ever have. He gave me homework! But I was inspired. Deep inside, he garnered authority and my respect. There was a wisdom about him that resonated with my spirit. He seems like one who walked the walk and talked the talk. I felt like he was an older figure that I could depend on to give me advice if I ever needed them in the future. Sadly, that opportunity never came. Uncle Ben succumbed to cancer a few months later. I was so devastated that I couldn't even bring myself to go his funeral. I wanted to remember him the way I last saw him - alive and kicking, the fighter that he was. A few years ago, while visiting with my Aunt Lorraine and Sally, I learnt a few more things about my Uncle Ben that made me wish I was given even more time to know him as an adult. 


Aunt Lorraine, whom I endearingly call Rainey told me how he'd been a man of character even way back as a college kid. When times were rough, he would borrow money from close friends promising to pay them back. By hook or by crook, he always kept his word and repaid every penny, even if they refused to accept it. After they were married, she told me how he would always make an effort to keep in touch with his friends no matter what. So he would call his friends up and say, "Hey you wanna hear a joke?" and proceeded to make them laugh. It tickled me to think that he knew the power of laughter and exercised it liberally. My Aunt Sally told me how he was always meddling in his sibling's business...in a way a protective elder brother would...in the way you always wanted one to. He always made it a point to call each of his seven siblings ever so often to ask how they were doing. And if she said that everything was alright, he would ask again, telling her to be truthful with him. He really really cared. If I am able to replay and apply all the memories I have of my Uncle Ben with my own child, I would have reason to be proud parent. One who knows how to be funny, humorous, ever-present, a leader by example, a strict disciplinarian yet overflowing with love.

Aunty Lucy

We met up with three generations of women on Elton’s side of the family today to celebrate Mother’s Day. I gave each of the women in the family a present which I had brought with me from China. It is such a joy seeing the looks on their faces when they open their gifts. I’ve never been a big fan of gift giving. To be honest, I’m always uncomfortable about getting people gifts. I always worry too much whether they’d like it and the thought of getting something someone hates scares me so much I avoid it at all cost. So today, when thinking of something I can learn from, I realized the joy of giving. Sometimes, it’s not about the gift but the giving. Doesn’t matter how small or how big. It’s the thought that counts.

Then I thought of my Aunt Lucy. If there’s one person in my life who has taught me the joy of giving, she’s it. I call her Kuche Lucy. Kuche means younger aunt in Cantonese. She’s always giving somebody something, sometimes even to the point of frustrating family members because she gives more than she can afford. When I was a kid, she used to take me to the temples and give me pennies to throw into the bags of beggars sitting beside the pathway. In my teens, she taught me about being enterprising by encouraging me to sell book holders in school. The last time I saw her last January, she shared a little story that struck a deep chord with me.

She’s currently a member of her the community council at her neighborhood. Every year, the council decides to organize a special function for Christmas. In the past, they have always had some sort of party for the neighborhood. On three occasions, she’d suggested throwing a luncheon for the garbage truck collectors and on each occasion was struck down. Last year, she suggested it again. Frustrated with the idea of it, they finally agreed on the condition that she organized it herself. And that is exactly what she did. With no location to throw the party, she decided to ask the President of the community’s Chamber of Commerce if he would rent out a space at the local shop lot to throw a party for 10 garbage truck collectors who were all foreign workers from Myanmar, Thailand, Laos and Indonesia. He was so touched by the idea that he decided not only to let her use a large shoplot for free, he even volunteered a large contribution for her to arrange the catering! So she organized a big buffet for them and in her usual casual way, waited for the garbage collectors to come by the next week and told them to come for a meeting on the designated day. When they arrived on the day of the party, many of them were moved to tears. They thanked her with heartfelt words, telling her about the discrimination they sometimes faced living in Malaysia, how hard it was being separated from their families and living like invisible people in a foreign land. This Christmas, she shared the joy of being an equal in God's eyes.

If I ever have a daughter, I will name her Lucy. So each time I look at her, I will be reminded of Kuche Lucy’s kindness, her charity, her modesty, her humility, her boldness and her sensitivity to the things many people don’t see. Sometimes, it’s the simplest things in people that make them so special. 

Siblings

Both my parents come from big families. My mother has nine siblings and my father has seven. My generation is the complete opposite. I only have one brother and most of my cousins are also from families with only two children. The annoying constant that remains though is the perpetuation of complicated fragmented relationships. As I've gotten older, it's been somewhat comforting though saddening to realize that this is quite the norm rather than the exception. I know very few people who manage to foster good relationships with their siblings. It's somewhat puzzling to think that someone who came from the same womb and share the same DNA can be so different in thinking, personalities and have trouble seeing eye-to-eye on things. There are exceptions to the rule. My beau's relationship with his siblings is one such. When I watch them interact I find myself pondering on what they are doing differently that makes it work. It's beautiful to see families that get along. It warms my heart to hear them laughing together. Is it a local Hawaiian mentality which is less superficial than the general American population? Is it because families live in much closer proximity here purely by default of the expensive cost of living? I doubt that it's merely a product of good parenting. Perhaps it's because people here are much more family oriented and somehow grasp the notion of family much better.  

Perhaps the secret is this. It starts with being kind to each other. They aren't petty about money. They don't see each other often but are respectful of each other's privacy and their doors are always open. They openly talk about each other's strengths and laugh about similarities in each other. They're not judgmental. They're self deprecating and modest. There's no power plays. It probably doesn't hurt that they're all pretty laid back and share similar hobbies. I feel privileged to witness it. It's somewhat humbling. Almost healing. It's the way things should be.  It's interesting how such simple rules can be so difficult and sometimes, downright impossible to apply with people who are so much a part of us.

Learning from Children

Children are precious. Since I started working, I've never really thought much about kids, being more interested in my career. Lately however, I've been spending a lot of time with Jesse's daughter, Kaile. She's a wise old soul with a fierce intelligence and rambunctious spirit for a six year old. Yet, she's still a kid. She can be willy and naughty, and sometimes, even lies outright to get what she wants. But I learn so much from her. 

Kaile (pronounced 'Kylie')

Kids are all about relationship. It's not about the money. It's not about dolling up and they're not that impressed with what you own. It's about the time you spend with them. That's what they really remember. 

Kids are often more perceptive than adults. They can see through people. They know when you're really interested in them or if you just want to use them or if you just don't really care. You can't fake interest with kids. They just know. And if they don't yet, they will. Sooner than you think. They just won't necessarily tell you.

Kids don't hold grudges. They don't poison themselves with festering thoughts of trying to punish people for hurting them. But they are sensitive enough to feel hurt.

Kids cry when they are hurt. They don't keep it all pent up inside until one day when the dam breaks and things from 2 years ago comes out!

In her eyes, love is so simple. She loves simply and forgives simply. I want to always love like that. So purely, so unconditionally. To be nonjudgmental. To see things for what they are appreciate it right there. Living each day for itself. Enjoying every moment for what it is without having to qualify it first.

She toyed with my camera trying to find the right focal length for this plumeria!

Kaile trying hard to take a picture of the textures on this hibiscus. Even adults often fail to take notice of such beauty!

Kaile is one of the most thoughtful person I've met in my life. I met her on skype one day when I was skyping with Elton. When she heard that I was visiting, she immediately said, "We need to get another chair for Aunty Sandy!" We didn't quite get it until a few seconds later when we realized she was talking about the dinner table!


Sometimes, I forget she's a child. She's like a little person with her own thoughts and ideas.
Perhaps it's age. Perhaps as we transition into adulthood, we see too much injustice or felt too much pain and lose the child in us. I've forgotten how beautiful it is to see the world through the eyes of a child. I think it's one of the simplest way to find happiness in this world. We adults have so much to learn!

Grandparents

As I've grown older, I've realized how precious grandparents are. Unfortunately I never got much opportunity to spend time with mine as an adult since I was only 12 when my last grandma passed. 


I discovered my beau has the cutest little grandma who's 94 year's old so I went to visit her today at the assisted living home. She's quite a character. Most people apparently seem to have a much lower mortality rate here in Hawaii and live up to their 90s and early 100s! Must be the air, water and better quality of life. She proudly told me how she and her 5 brothers and 5 sisters were born in Hawaii between 1900 and 1920 and they all grew up to be doctors, surgeons and teachers. She was remarkably sharp for a 94 year old, even curious enough about Elton's iphone and watched attentively as we scrolled through the pictures on it, unfazed by how we were using our fingers to zoom, move and scroll through them.


Jenny's definitely got a sense of humor. Once, she cracked me up telling me how she used to know Mandarin but have forgotten it all because she preferred speaking English. This is how she said it, "I went to Chinese classes after school to learn Chinese but I gave it all back to the teacher."

Mommy Power

Mothers are such special people. After a difficult day, all it takes is one short conversation with my mom, hearing her voice to make everything seem alright. She's the pillar in the family who keeps everything together. Without her, our family would be scattered. She's the one who stands in the middle when we start to grumble amongst each other, she's the one who cooks the dinner to bring everyone together that one time of the day, she's the one who can break my heart and send me bursting into tears with one single word. My relationship with my mother has never been smooth growing up. I've only gotten close to her in the last few years of my adult life. Age seems to have crept up on her gracefully as she's mellowed. And age has taught me to see things in her I had never realized before. Just last December, I managed to tell her, "I love you, mommy." She gave me a long hug. Later, I broke down in tears silently, overwhelmed with love for someone whom I regard as the rock in my life. And I think she doesn't even know it.