Kind of Like a Motorcycle

The story behind my daughter's name is not one I would call "special." It's actually kind of amusing now that I think about it. But something about that memory has forever stayed with me, enough for me to name my daughter after that child.

I had just graduated from high school and I was working at an after-school program for the summer. I was in charge of a 2nd or 3rd grade class - my memory fails me on which one it actually was anymore. My shift started around 11 am and I served them lunch. The ones who didn't finish their work from the morning would finish it after lunch and I would help them complete their assignments if they had questions. Then I stayed with the class all afternoon as they rotated their play areas. I'd leave work around 5 or 6 pm. 

One day at work, one of the girls came up to me and asked me a question. I answered it, and she responded, "I get you, I get you" in this squeaky little girl voice. I loved it. Something about the sound and the slight scratchy yet cuteness in her voice. She was also beautiful, not model-worthy, but I never thought that was what made children beautiful. There's something about messy hair, small clothing, and an innocent face that has a radiant beauty no amount of put-together-ness-perfection can match. And I remembered her name.

I remembered her name all these years, and when my daughter was born, I decided to give her the same name. It's not that I wanted her to have a squeaky voice or to be like this little girl from my memories. It was just a positive association I had with this name. 

After four years, it finally happened. We were going about out evening and my daughter was telling me about her evening. My husband had taken the kids out while I was teaching, and after they returned, we were all getting ready for bed. I asked her what she did with Daddy and she was telling me. I was asking questions to clarify what she was telling me. At once point, she was trying to explain to me sitting on a four wheeler.

Mommy: Was it a jeep?

S: No, it wasn't a jeep. It was kind of like a motorcycle, but not a motorcycle, but it kind of looked like a motorcycle but it wasn't a motorcycle. 

"kind of like a motorcycle, but not a motorcycle"

And then that moment hit me, just like it had when I'd heard that little girl say to me, "I get you, I get you." The sound of my daughter's voice and what she was saying had this cuteness to it: the cute repetivive phrasing of her sentence and her perfectly enunciated English at four. 

I can't really explain why certain words and phrases and how they are said can sound so special when what's being said has no special meaning at all. But this was one of them. 

Memories In the Wild

I had received a text message from the mom of one of my piano student's. She was asking me about lessons for a friend and then asked me if I had written a book. I was astonished as how she found out that information as it's not something I broadcast publicly. She told me it was the first thing that came up when she searched my name on the internet.

Well, then. 

Before I leapt to incorrect conclusions of being a famous author, I correctly put the pieces together.

- she paid me via PayPal and my maiden name was still attached to that account.

- my maiden name is quite obscure. I'm no John Smith or Jane Doe.

I actually searched myself using my maiden name and low and behold, it came up. My book was being sold on a book reselling website. I found the listing. The seller had put in the description, "A paperback book SIGNED and inscribed by author to previous owner on the first page in very good condition that has some bumped corners, wrinkling and crease, light discoloration and shelf wear. 8"x5", 177 pages." 

Immediately, I felt slightly betrayed. Who would part with a personal, signed copy of my book? I had personally ordered 25 copies and sold them only for the price of printing. I kept one copy. 

I told my husband about this and he asked me if I would buy it just to take it out of circulation. I said, "Of course not. This person is trying to sell it for twice what I charged my friends and I didn't care whether it was in some random person's possession or not."

But it was still eating away at me who had given away their copy of my book. I understood he/she could do whatever he/she wanted and it didn't matter if it was my book or not. But I still felt hurt.

My biggest accomplishment before I had kids. $0 profit but 1000% satisfaction.

I loved writing, and I wrote these books at a time in my life when I needed them the most. They were my therapy. I didn't care to become rich and famous. I just wanted a place to catalogue my writing and keep it close to me. And I did exactly that. These are stories of my life, my experiences, my loves lost, my sadness, my anger, my joy, and my adventures. 

When I wrote the first one and shared them with interested friends, one friend gasped and said, "You used their real names!" I did. The reason why I did was because I had nothing to hide. These were true stories of my life. I said nothing incriminating about anyone in my book. In fact, I mostly said good things because that is how I remembered them. The bad things came with the sadness they made me feel. It didn't make them a bad person. 

I didn't realize it then, but there would come a day (now) when I would forget parts of my past experiences. Had I coded their names, I would not be able to remember who it was. And that would devalue the memory. Writing it the way they happened allowed me to save the memory and keep it true to the person. 

I reread them every now and then. Reading my own writing from so long ago makes me cringe. I see places with errors I failed to catch. I see unpolished works I once thought were "pretty good." I think only 1-2 pieces in total still impress me the way they did when I wrote them. But that's the power of wisdom. I know I can see things now through a different lens than I could when I was 18 or 20. 

**

I found out whose book the seller was listing online. I saw my personalization in the front, something I did for every person who bought a copy of any book I offered. At first, I was sad. I wondered why this person would choose to let go of my book. And then I figured it out. This person has always had a big heart. This person has always been a giver, not a taker. This person would want to share my writing with someone else. That's all. It's unfortunate it ended up in the hands of someone trying to take advantage of an opportunity to capitalize, but I believe that was never the intent.

And then I let go of the hurt. 

Wordle in Review

(Disclaimer: these are all past Wordles and do not include today's word)

So I got sucked into Wordle a few days after the New Year just like everyone else. It's actually been a really nice daily activity. It's also been a great bonding topic between one of my college friends. We are celebrating about 13 years of friendship this year :) I remember meeting her at lunch one day in the dining hall after a large lecture class. I liked her. She was like an older, smarter version of myself. She gave me rides to church during college and was my church buddy because very few people wanted to wake up for the 9 o'clock service. She let me cook at her apartment for a large event once when I volunteered to handle refreshments. She attended our wedding, and now she lives about 10 minutes from my in-laws. Wordle is another nice way to add to our friendship. 

I take a screenshot everyday, but I wanted to explore some more thought processes with the rest of the world. I know people post their scores and people are so impressed when someone can guess the word in two or three guesses. But let's be real, sometimes it's just luck. What's the actual thought process behind guessing? Let's take a look at some of mine....

This was the one day I was unable to guess the word. I was very frustrated. This was also the day after the word "tacit" so I was thinking along more posh lines. Rouse was a great word. It should have been the Wordle. Much more sophisticated than "other." "Error" was a good guess after rouse. "Oiler" put the three letters I already had in the correct spot. "Odder" was probably a bad guess, but hey, those double letters really trip me up. "Otter" was another guess at the double letters. Unfortunately, it was my last guess, so I did not solve the Wordle that day. I should have tried a word with more variation in letters like "other"....but hindsight.

I got pretty lucky on this one. Caulk just came to mind first when I saw it started with a "c" and ended with a "k" and had an "a" in the middle. I blame my renovation and homeowner experience. 

Look at how many times I had to guess "-der" before I got it right...

This was a fun Wordle. I guessed three words that were all moving forward in guessing technique AND they have a theme! I bet you've never guessed a Wordle and had all the words match together in a theme. 😂

After I'd guessed "prove" I really thought of the word "proxy" first, but I didn't guess it because I didn't think they would pick it as the word. Turns out I was actually right and wrong....since I decided to guess prowl first. I don't know why my mind went to "proxy" but it did. Should have trusted my gut. Just for that day. 

This is the only Wordle I've solved in two guesses. I don't know how I got so lucky. 🤷🏻‍♀️

So far I can't say I've learned any new words from Wordle. They're not all common but I've heard of them all at least once in my life. I've come across a few new words just by guessing combinations when I reach my wits end, but that doesn't happen very often. Although lately I've been getting frustrated a lot more....haha. But in all honesty, I really enjoy Wordle if not solely for the purpose of texting my friend. 😊

Bilingual Benefits

 I was cooking dinner and my daughter was playing with playdoh. She was talking to me as I cooked. 

S: Mommy, look, I made a wok!

Me: A wok? I turned around to look. 

S: No, a wok! 

Me: A walk?

S: No! A wok! 石头！

Me: Oh! A rock. 

S: Yea, mommy. I made a wok. 

Not the same “wok”…but that’s when I pulled the camera out. 

I chuckled to myself but didn’t correct her. It would happen eventually. She was still only three. I was just glad her comprehension in two languages was good enough that she could translate to convey. 

That’s impressive. 

I secretly kinda wish she had made a wok. 

Elephant and Piggie

I first discovered Elephant and Piggie at the library a few years ago when I would check out books. I purposely searched Chinese books at the library and would pick from what they had. One of the books we checked out was an Elephant and Piggie book. I didn't even realize it was an entire series until one of my student's parents saw the book and recognized it. At first I thought she had read it in her native language, but then she told me it was a popular children's book series. 

That's when I realized there was a whole series on Elephant and Piggie. This series can be slightly controversial because the "quality" of the books is debatable. Some people argue that they're not great books because the language is simple and there's no real point to the books. For an English book, I might agree. There are other books in English I'd rather my children read. So no, I would never buy the series in English. Library? Sure, why not. Buy? Nope.

I did enjoy the one we checked out. In English, it would have been Are You Ready to Play Outside? I enjoyed reading this book to my daughter in Chinese because I could actually read most of the characters. There were a few I had to look up, but overall, it wasn't bad. 

The first Elephant and Piggie book I discovered, in Chinese.

At the end of last year, I found an entire set of them in Chinese I could purchase for a reasonable price. I bought it, almost no questions asked. It shipped quickly, and I was so excited to open them after they arrived. My daughter loves reading them with me and I love being able to read most of the text. 

A few of the books in the series have words above my vocabulary so I started out reading them with my phone next to me to look up words I didn't recognize. Thankfully, I understand stroke order and the dictionary handwriting recognition is very smart so it's a pretty quick process. 

The "quality" of the books doesn't bother me because I don't believe it contains anything that is necessarily  bad. Sure, the grammar is simple and the book itself is pretty basic, but since it is in Chinese, I would be happy to read it to her knowing we would actually read it. I am not against having more quality Chinese books, but the problem is I cannot read half of it easily. If I can't read it easily, I'm less likely to pick it up and want to read it, and it is less likely to captivate my daughter. The few I do have, I've had to work really hard reading multiple times to become familiar with the text and recognize more of the difficult words. 

I will probably need to study up and learn new words as I read to my children in the future. Let's hope my kids have the patience to wait for me, too. 😅

Mamalogues: Reminiscing

All the snow this week in Texas has brought back memories of a time when I lived in one of the coldest cities in the world. I didn't choose to live there, but being assigned to a school in northeast China was a chance happening. In 1st grade, I remember reading an article about the ice hotel in Sweden, and I thought it would be really cool to sleep on a bed made out of ice.

Well, I didn't actually sleep on a bed of ice, but I was practically walking on ice for six months of the year.

Visiting the ice festival back in 2013.
I wanted to hug some ice.

Getting this much snow in Texas has been a first for everyone in my family. My daughter thoroughly enjoyed herself and spent at least 1-2 hours outside playing everyday. Yes, even when it was 6 degrees outside. I reluctantly went outside as well to play with her and actually had a little bit of fun myself. Although I consider myself a true adult and have fully immersed myself in the world of adulting, I did gain a new insight on snow: true powdery snow has the consistency of damp sand. It doesn't pack well which makes building snowmen very difficult, but has a therapeutic feel to it when picked up and fluffed between the hands. 

The snow, however, inspired me to revisit my memoir I wrote about my year living overseas. I haven't read it myself in many years and decided to take some time and reread it. 

Once upon a time, I had time to write, edit, and self-publish my own book.
Now I just read picture books to my kids. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Reading it this time was a little different because the memories felt more faraway and distanced. If I didn't know any better, it was like I was reading someone else's retelling of their experience overseas. Many of the memories, had I not written them down at the time they happened, I would never remember. Some of the memories bring back clear mental images after reading. I can still remember the faces and names of certain students. I can still remember my apartment number, the floor plan, and the layout of my furniture. 

But a lot has changed.

For starters, I found a lot more grammatical and writing errors. A little background information. When I wrote my books, I would write it, create the book, and order one copy. After that copy arrived, I would reread it and mark corrections in the book. Then, I would go back into the program and make all these changes before bulk orders to share. As I read, I found a lot of errors I still missed as well as some stylistic changes I would change if I were to write it again. I'd like to say despite not utilizing my English potential to its fullest, my writing today is still better than it was eight years ago. 

Secondly, the person I am has changed. I think that's to be expected and beneficial. I'm almost eight years older than I was when I completed the book and my roles as a person have changed. I am now a wife, mother, and still a teacher, although not of English. I read a lot of anecdotes where I wanted to react differently to the situation. But alas, I was not that person eight years ago and reacted the way I did. 

Ironically, I'd like to say my Chinese has gotten better, especially in regards to speaking. True, I am not immersed in the language and do not see Chinese on street signs or store labels, but by speaking Chinese to my daughter and reading Chinese children's books, I am using it almost 100% of the day. I did not do this in China as I had American teammates as well as English classes to teach. 

Reading my old memories made me realize more clearly the extent of what I experienced.

1. There are a lot of creeps out there, and I encountered quite a few. I didn't realize how many awkward moments I actually experienced until I reread the stories I wrote. And these are only the ones I wrote down. 

2. I experienced a lot of cultural confusion. I was neither fully American nor fully Chinese, and being in China exposed a lot of it. There were many times when it made me confused or angry. 

3. Chinese people didn't know how to treat me - they couldn't treat me as fully American and they couldn't treat me as fully Chinese. This put them in a sort of limbo, caught in the middle. And if it wasn't that, they'd flirt with me because I was a special kind of "exotic."

4. I had more culture shock in Thailand than China.

If you were one of the lucky few to receive a copy of this book, thank you for showing interest in a very special year of my life. I hope it was able to provide a fresh perspective and some interesting memories for you to partake in. I do miss writing the way I used to, but I know this time of my life brings me other responsibilities and tasks. Perhaps someday, I will get to bind my writing between covers again. For now, you can read about my life happenings here on the blog.