Goodbye Mum

I sold my senior Homecoming mum today, sold it for 50% of the cost of the mum to begin with...so if you don't factor in inflation, that would be a negative 50% return. However, if you consider it literally plastic, paper, and ribbon hot glued together to make something ridiculously noisy that high school girls wear around for one day of their lives, I made a great sale. No, I did not wear mine around school. It's been hanging on a wall in my old bedroom for the last 10 years in pristine condition.

Every fall, I contemplated selling it to make some money and to get rid of it, but every fall, I either forgot or couldn't bring myself to sell it. There was too much sentimentality behind it because it was completely my own handiwork.

My handmade senior mum.

During junior year, my homecoming date was from another school. He and I had agreed not to do the mum and garter stuff with each other. We were going together just to have a date for the dance and to hang out with our friends. Well, being the girly girl I was, (and still am at heart,) I bought my own mum that year from the drill team moms and paid for it with my own money. I also bought some craft things and put together a last minute garter for him anyway even though we said we weren't going to do that. It wasn't my finest handiwork, but you know, for someone who thought he wasn't getting a garter, I think he was pleasantly surprised to have gotten one after all. I'm sure it's long been in the trash for years since that night.

For senior year, my homecoming date was yet again from another school. He and I had again agreed not to do the mum and garter stuff with each other. We were, once again, going together just to have a date for the dance and to hang out with our friends. And once again, being the girly girl I was, I wanted my own mum - because let's face it, the silver and white ones are so much more "elegant" than the maroon and white ones, if you can even call glitter, ribbon, and plastic "elegant."

But, I was going to make my own. Being a year wiser than I was the previous year and more intuitive, I figured out how to assemble all these seemingly useless pieces of craft materials they sell at Hobby Lobby and Michael's into something rather beautiful. My favorite part was the mum base. I creatively designed my own pattern and put it together with some of the more expensive glitter ribbons.

My mum base.

The trickiest part to making beautiful mums which I discovered in my own experience is how to embellish and hide the staples and glue. Everyone can take hot glue and glue a cow bell onto a piece of ribbon, or tie a cow bell onto a string and hang it off the mum. But how many people can DIY hide the charm hole at the top of the cow bell with something beautiful? (Also considering that mums are most often made by boys for girls with high expectations, chances are slim to none that they have any idea how to do this; hence, The Mum Shop in Plano has such lucrative business for only operating 3 months of the year.)

Someone out there will be Class of 2019...how
convenient: I only had to change one sticker.

17-year-old me figured that out, and I had a lot of fun making my own bows and ribbon embellishments to hide the charm holes, staples, and hot glue.

Made my own deluxe loops, and my own
ribbon braid on the right.

Cleverly concealed the top of the bell
beneath a decorative ribbon.

It was still very bittersweet and a bit sad when I handed away my mum to the lady who was picking it up. Granted, I would much rather have the cash than my mum hanging in my room, but I'm still sentimental at heart and I will miss my fine handiwork from 10 years ago. Also I'm pretty sure she will take apart my mum and simply use it for pieces to make another one. But I'm thankful I was able to sell it for cash than simply throw it away in the trash. Perhaps my legacy will live on anonymously through someone else's mum, at least for one year.

Just for kicks and giggles, I went online to The Mum Shop and created a mum order for something comparable to mine (number of charms, number of ribbons, etc.) to see how much it would cost to buy. I paid quite a bit less than what they're charging. Here are the numbers:

In my opinion, mums these days have gotten so large and so flashy that they're gaudy. I think they're actually more beautiful and elegant when they don't weigh 20 pounds and cover the entire girl whom it adorns. But I digress.

I did, however, remember to remove one detail from my mum. Years ago when I was preparing to hang my mum in my room, I needed a large needle or safety pin to hang it up on the pushpin. The only thing I could think of to use was a pearl pin I had kept in my music box. Before selling it and giving it away, I switched out the pearl pin with one of my many safety pins I've amassed from shopping at baby consignments. (I probably could have handed it to her without anything and it would have been fine, but I was trying to make it more marketable.) 

Why such a big fuss over such a small pin? It's the pin from my corsage from my mother's funeral.

In about sixteen years, I'll hopefully be able to pull up this blog post and share with my daughter about my old Homecoming mum and how much fun I had making it and how special it was for me. 

Goodbye, mum. I'll miss you.

The Shopping Cart Conundrum

I took my daughter with me to the dentist today. She sat quietly in her car seat carrier in the corner as I got my teeth cleaned. The last 10 minutes or so she became a little fussy, but overall she was very good - everyone said she was super cute, very aware, and healthy-looking. Why, yes, if I don't say so myself.

After finishing up at the dentist, I really wanted to go grocery shopping next door because I'd put off shopping for groceries for about 10 days and we were down to eating rice and beans, frozen chicken nuggets, and deli sandwiches. I've always loved the fact that my dentist's office was next to a grocery store I frequent, albeit it's up to 40 minutes away from my house.

I didn't have the stroller caddy with me in my trunk today because it ended up in my husband's car so I figured I'd plop her in a shopping cart and grab the few items I needed:

- 2 onions
- 5 pouches of baby food
- 2 cartons of strawberries
- 1 bag of carrots (1lb)
- 1 bag of potatoes (5lb)
- 1 container of yogurt

Doesn't seem like much, right? Usually, this would be no problem for a basket and I'd hold the bag of potatoes in my other hand. Well, when your baby in the car seat in the cart takes up 100% of the base of the shopping cart, and there's no room left to flip out the little part at the front that usually your child would sit in (but she can't safely sit with only a lap belt yet), you need to leave empty-handed or get creative very quickly.

I piled stuff around her feet being careful not to crush her toes. I put some items above the hood of her carrier, and anything else I held in my hands to the checkout line.

After checking out, I piled the few bags of groceries on the bottom level of the cart where you would normally put your heavy items - cases of soda, water, larger boxes, etc. Carefully, I pushed her out of the store, being extra cautious when pushing her over the threshold at the sliding door entrance. Well, I was doing great until I went to go down the accessibility ramp (which I learned in college is mandatory for all buildings/stores/places to have a ramp for handicap accessibility, or in this case, mothers pushing strollers or grocery shopping carts) and the ramp had ridges. Dundundundun went the cart, and of course the vibrations jiggled my precariously placed bags on the bottom level of the cart off onto the ground.

So here I was, diaper backpack on my back, purse over my shoulder slowly slipping down, holding the cart so it wouldn't roll away into the street with my precious baby, attempting to bend over to grab all the spilled items, and hoping nobody is behind me trying to exit the store because I am smack in the middle of their way.

Would you believe me if I said it wasn't the first time this has happened? It's not.

So this is my life: teaching piano part time, raising a baby, and wondering if there's actually going to be any room in my shopping cart for the groceries.

"Mommy, stop crowding my personal space."

Parenting Etiquette

The longer I'm a parent, the more I realize that there are some topics or questions that really bother me. I have been guilty of more than one of these myself in my pre-mommy days, but now that I'm fully immersed on the other side, I know better.

You may not agree with me on any or all of these, but these are my personal thoughts on some questions/comments to avoid telling/asking new parents.

 1. "Enjoy the time when they're young. They grow up so fast!"

 As a parent, I knew I had to do this, but in the spur of the moments - in other words, every single waking second - it's really really hard to enjoy. I personally did not enjoy the newborn stage. Not being able to do ANYTHING with my time (or so it felt) was so irritating at times. I literally felt like I had to feed her, put her to sleep, wash bottles when she slept, cook when she slept, pump when she slept, do laundry when she slept, and then repeat the cycle all over again. Yes, it's true, laundry can wait. Sometimes. Yes it's true, cooking can wait. Sometimes. Yes, it's true, washing bottles can wait. Sometimes. But every now and then things have to be done, and those things have to be done somewhere between the minutes and hours of tending to a baby's needs. It gets frustrating fast. Were there moments I enjoyed? Absolutely. Did I purposely try to enjoy and savor it? Probably not.

 2. "Is he/she sleeping through the night yet?"

 This is the favorite question of many people I know. Even family has asked me this, and it gets old really quickly. Because every time I respond with "No" they seem shocked - why isn't your baby sleeping through the night yet? Are you really that concerned about my sleep? Because if you are, you should really start asking women during pregnancy if they're sleeping through the night. I don't think I've slept through the night in an entire year or more. There's no true "time" for babies to sleep through the night. I've talked to friends where it took up to a year or more for their babies to sleep through the night. Honestly, I'm okay when she wakes up at night to eat because she eats better at night than she does during the day sometimes. So who cares if she wakes up at night to eat? I care if she's eating! Yes, there will be a time when she gets older and is more than capable of sleeping through the night, and at that point, I will parent a little differently in order to train her to do that. But when she's young - 2, 3, 4, even 8 months, please don't be surprised if I tell you my baby is not sleeping through the night. I understand this is a perfectly honest question to ask, but if you must ask, please always respond with "Oh, that's good," no matter what I tell you. (I've had friends/other parents ask me about her sleep and respond in this way - thank you for doing so. I appreciate it and remember who you are!)

 3. Parenting other parents This doesn't happen often, but I think there was one time, someone heard my baby crying, saw me "struggling" to feed her and told me "Oh, I don't think she wants to eat. I think she's sleepy." She may have been sleepy also, but I was pretty sure she was hungry, too. Once I got her to somewhere quieter and laying on the floor instead of holding her in my arms, she finished the bottle and then it was nap time. I think. I don't really recall anymore. Parental instinct is not natural FYI...it doesn't just appear when you have a baby. No matter how nurturing you are, how caring you are, how kind you can be, or how much you love your baby, you don't just wake up one day and suddenly "get the hang of it." So yes, you will see me struggle to take care of my own child. Please don't act like you know more than I do about my baby, even if you are a veteran parent. There's no "one size fits all" to parenting. By the way, I have a very picky baby when it comes to eating positions. I will literally try feeding her, she will refuse to eat, and then 5 minutes later she starts crying, I move her somewhere else, and she will finish the bottle. True story.

 So what is something all parents, new or experienced, want to hear from other people?

 Encouragement. "You're doing a great job."

Seriously, something as simple as that, means a lot. Especially through the exploding poop diapers, crazy spit up, nursing/feeding strikes, hours of non-stop seemingly "for no reason" crying that babies do every now and then, we, moms and dads, need to hear that our endless guess-and-check attempts are not in vain.

 To my sweet mommy friends who have encouraged me (and inspired me to write this post):

 Thank you.

馒头

My grandmother was the cook in the family. It's sad to say I honestly don't remember anything specific about her cooking. She cooked everything! I remember holiday meals at their house when they lived 15 minutes away from us and many dishes on the table, but I have no recollection of eating it. I was still too young to appreciate or enjoy the cultural dishes with sophisticated flavors. They moved away when I was about 10 or 11 years old.

What I do remember, however, is what my grandfather made: steamed bread (馒头). I remember in the summers he would cover their entire kitchen counter with dough and flour and make tons of steamed bread and buns. I never helped in the process, but I remember watching him roll out and knead the dough by hand. I remember him pinching my nose with floured hands. I remember playing with small bits of dough he'd rip off and hand to me. (Side note: This is where I learned how hot Texas summers were. Once, I took the small ball of dough outside with me to play. We had this little Fisher Price tricycle and some other self-propelling plastic toy car. I was riding around on one of them in the driveway. I needed to use the bathroom, but I still wanted to play. I remember leaving my ball of dough on the toy outside in the driveway, running inside really quickly to go, and returning back outside only to find my ball of dough was now a hollow, wrinkly, rubbery ball. Seriously, I wasn't gone that long. )

Over 15 years later, the urge to want to replicate my grandfather's steamed bread has returned. I think partially it's because cooking while taking care of a baby and working part time is exhausting. I have to think far in advance what to thaw, what to buy from the grocery store, and how I'm going to plan my time to prep and cook - I hardly ever cook at "dinner time" anymore. We love going out and buying steamed buns (包子) - so easy and so tasty - but it adds up financially. So the goal was to try and make some ourselves. However, the first step was to get the outer bread right.

I finally had some time yesterday afternoon to sit down and make some steamed bread. I followed this recipe. And found the results decent. I'm not sure if my dough didn't rise as it should have or if I cut my portions too big...I only yielded 4 and the recipe said 8. Oh well. Steaming time was also a little different because after about 10 minutes I felt they were done (they were) and took them out.

I was so excited to try one. Upon ripping off a piece from the side and tasting it, I was immediately transported back to my childhood, standing in my grandparent's kitchen, being fed bits of this freshly steamed warm bread. I'm not sure I could replicate this again if I made it a second time or doubled/tripled the recipe, but it's a start.

I did forget to follow the instruction to cover with floured plastic wrap, hence the little peaks on the tops of my bread versus a smooth round top. Needless to say I had a hard time removing the plastic from the tops...

We're one step closer to making 包子! One of these days I'll find an afternoon for hubby to watch the baby for a solid 5-6 hours and I can cook in peace.

The Dollhouse Furniture

There's a doctor somewhere out there who has brought me much grief. No, I was not her patient. No, nobody I know has been or is her patient. Why then? Because she never returned what she borrowed from me nearly 15 years ago.

We weren't even friends really. We went to school together. She was a few years older than me and I had "little sister syndrome." I wanted to hang with the older kids and do everything they were doing. No, don't worry, I never got myself in trouble....for the most part.

10th grade science was chemistry. They had a mole project assigned, and she was making a little "mole" house I think. She asked if I had dollhouse furniture and wanted to borrow them for her project. Me, having "little sister syndrome," immediately let her borrow the pieces she wanted. They were some of my favorites - the shower, the toilet (with a lid that actually lifted up and down), a sofa, etc.

Years after she had finished 10th grade chemistry and was about to graduate, I remember asking people to ask her about returning my dollhouse furniture. Because we weren't actually friends and the introvert and ever developing passive aggressive side of me thought it inappropriate to directly ask her for them back myself. I remember asking a friend to ask her, and he told me when he asked her about returning the pieces, she became angry. Who does that?

I never got the dollhouse furniture back. Years and years later when I was cleaning out my dad's house, I looked again at my incomplete set of dollhouse furniture which was missing some of my favorite pieces. It'd been so many years, I had long given up on ever seeing them again. I boxed away the remaining pieces and gave them away. I had convinced myself it wasn't worth keeping an incomplete set.

It was just a simple $10 40-pc set of girly dollhouse furniture from Toys 'R Us. Everything was constructed of plastic in shades of white, pink, and light blue. I loved that set of dollhouse furniture. The drawers and cabinets actually opened and closed. The tiny television had a sticker of New York City with the Statue of Liberty framed between the Twin Towers. The set came with a mommy, daddy, and baby doll. The baby even had a cradle that rocked back and forth.

As a child I asked for a lot of things. I wanted a lot of things as children do. And for the most part, I did not get them. This is not to say I did not receive things I wanted or that my mother never bought me things. She bought me a lot of things - clothes, books, snacks - but when it came to toys, she was always the first to say no. With all the toys I had growing up - and I had a lot, most of them meticulously taken care of and saved to this day - I remember my dad buying them.

I remember looking in the Toys 'R Us ad and flipping through the colorful pages. I saw this set of dollhouse furniture and remember it costing $9.99. Surely that price for the value would convince my mother to buy it for me. 40 pieces for $10? That's $0.25 a piece - what a steal! I showed it to my mother, and she actually agreed to buy it for me. I still remember going to the store with her, and she asked the salesman to get a package from the top shelf because she wanted to make sure the box we bought was in good condition.

Thinking about this memory always makes me cry. There's anger. There's sadness. I've told myself over and over again I just need to get over it and move on. In some ways I have. Over the years I've always just thought the dollhouse furniture was sentimental to me because my mother bought it, and having lost her, it made the things she gave me more meaningful. This time, when this memory resurfaced, I realized why this set of colorful, cheap plastic was truly sentimental: my mother said yes.

Sasha's First Road Trip!

We just got back from an 8 day trip with 3 days driving with our little 3 month old. Let me tell you....it is not easy traveling with a little one, and being that I am exclusively pumping, that adds an extra layer of complication to the whole ordeal. But, it was a lot of fun.

The TLDR version:

- 5 days in Houston
- big party for Sasha
- didn't pack enough diapers
- bottle sterilizer broke
- super fun getting to meet up with friends and new babies
- 3 days in Austin
- baby's first wedding (and of course she woke up crying right when it started....sorry Nick and Tiffany!)
- one sleepy (but really good) baby

For the details and pictures, read on.

We took my little Corolla on this road trip because hubby's car is still "new" to us and we're keeping the mileage low in case we ever do want to sell it/trade for a minivan or something bigger. Believe it or not, we fit everything into my little car: a bouncer, a pack and play, a baby bathtub, bottle sterilizer, drying rack, her suitcase, my duffel, hubby's duffel and backpack, stroller caddy, diaper bag, extra diapers and wipes, boppy, and a small bottle of laundry detergent. I may have left off a few small things.

We are really good at tetris.

And of course, 30 minutes into the drive, I realize I'm missing the second bottle bag with the extra milk in it, so we turn around to go home and spend about 10 minutes looking for it. Because what actually happened was we were getting her ready (and trying to get her to finish a big bottle before driving) and it took forever so I had the milk packed in the bottle bag. Well, I put the bottle bag back into the fridge to keep it colder longer and then in the chaos of getting her and everything else loaded up, forgot to get it out of the fridge to bring. So of course when hubby did our "final walkthrough".... he didn't see it. Oops.

We still made it to Houston in good time which included a pitstop at Buc-ee's! Perfect timing because she pooped and needed to be changed. Usually we were able to both use the restroom and both finish about the same time. Not so with a baby. Hubby held baby and changing supplies while I went. Then I went back in with her to change while he went. We always thought the stuffed beavers were cute before, but they're even cuter when you have a little one!

Fist Bump

Fist bump?

Sasha was really good during her big party. There were tons of people and she got passed around pretty much the whole time she was awake. It really helped her nap schedule because she would go to sleep, wake up and eat, and then be passed around again for an hour. This happened about 3 times until the party ended and it was time for her to get ready for bed.

The star of the show also happens to be the tiniest.

This trip was extra special because it was also when we got to see some of our close friends for the first time in over a year! Since the last time we saw them, they had their baby boy who is now almost 10 months old and we had Sasha (who didn't even exist in cells yet!) It was so nice to be able to spend time with them, see their cute baby, Judah, and hang out together. Of course it was different than the last time we were able to see each other sans babies, but this is our new normal, and it's much cuter, more fun, and so worth it to be able to share the joys of raising babies even when we're many many states apart.

Mix and match mommies and babies.

To be honest we didn't do a whole lot in Houston. Besides the party and seeing our friends, we mostly spent our time staying at home with minimal trips out just to run quick errands or go shopping, like when Mommy doesn't pack enough diapers and we need to get some and pay twice what we normally do for diapers (oh well...). Hubby's parents moved across town recently, and I can totally see why. Getting to wake up in the morning to quiet breakfasts before baby woke up and winding down our days after she went to sleep to this view was so worth it:

After leaving Houston, we went to Austin for a wedding. Before the wedding, we had some time during the day and decided to explore UT campus with her. I don't think I'd ever enjoyed campus as much as I did walking through it pushing Sasha in her stroller. I did have to find all the wheelchair friendly entrances to push her easily, and when we didn't, we lifted the stroller over small flights of stairs. I have serious respect for those students who require wheelchairs to get around campus. Although the wheelchair accessibility is there, it is not easy to find!

The original plan was to have her awake during this visit so we could take some pictures while carrying her. We even put her in her UT onesie. Of course, she woke up later than usual, took a little longer to eat, and then fell asleep right when we got ready to leave. So you can't really see her pink UT onesie at all. Babies...I think they're much more keen than we give them credit for and know how to ruin all their parents plans, don't you think?

I think with the exception of my extra defined eye-baggies, I could totally pass for a college kid with a baby. I'm pretty sure I have a picture with a near identical expression from 6 years ago.

My oldest burnt orange tee with the youngest longhorn.

We visited my favorite (aka: most frequented) building on campus. Guess where!

Mommy used to live there, pre-renovation and all!

We were going to visit the SAC as well because I remember them putting in the filtered water fountains that you could refill water bottles with. Unfortunately, we visited on a Saturday morning and the SAC did not open until 12 during its summer hours on Saturdays. Fortunately, there was a water refill station outside the building...along with lots of new fountains. At least, I think they're new. If they're not, please humor me and let me think they're new.

Of course, when traveling with a baby (and scheduling everything around my pumping schedule), sometimes you just end up sitting in your expensive hotel for the afternoon and letting baby roll around on the bed. Which results in some pretty cute pictures:

Seriously. Where did you get all this cuteness from?

Staying at a hotel for the first time with a baby made me realize that to keep some of my sanity and to keep life relatively easy, I had to break the majority of the rules I learned growing up. As a child traveling with my family, my mother always told me, when staying at a hotel:

- First thing you do is to check the bedsheets to make sure they're clean.
- Don't ever walk around barefoot in the room.
- Try to minimize the number of things on the floor - keep them on chairs, tables, bed as much as possible.

Sorry mom, I definitely forgot to check the bedsheets until after we were all moved in and getting ready to sleep. (They were clean, thankfully.) I definitely walked around barefoot because when your baby is waking up 2x more than normal due to new surroundings and messed up schedules, it's just easier not to fumble with shoes, even slip ons. And we definitely put things all over the floor (except the baby!) because things are just better when you're not carrying them in your arms.

The wedding was fun. It definitely wasn't what we're used to - go to the wedding, sit and enjoy ceremony, socialize during cocktail hour, enjoy a four-course meal, dance, etc.

We still clean up pretty well.

It went something more like: go to the wedding, hope baby doesn't wake up, baby wakes up right when ceremony begins, whisk crying baby away, come back and sit while bouncing baby on shoulder for 15 minutes, feed baby, push baby around stroller to fall asleep during cocktail hour, baby falls asleep so you go in for the reception, baby wakes up immediately during reception because sudden loud noises like the microphone wake her up, baby stays up all through dinner, hubby cuts wifey's tenderloin so she can use one hand to hold pacifier in baby's mouth so it doesn't keep falling out and cause her to cry, take a few photos at the photobooth with friends you see once a year, stay as long as possible to finish dinner, leave and go home so baby can sleep because she's been awake for almost 4 hours straight which is 2.5 hours too long, drive home hoping baby falls asleep, baby doesn't fall asleep, starts wailing in the last 10 minutes of car ride (but thankfully stayed quiet for 25), baby falls asleep finally when you get back to hotel room.



I guess one perk of having a wide-awake baby at the end of the night was to snap a cute photo for their guest book:

Our family representative.

Am I glad we were able to get away for a week? Yes, most definitely yes. It was a great change of scenery for us compared to the simple day to day. And it was so nice not to worry about cooking or meal prepping. Would I do this again? Um...not any time soon. And if you're a mom and have breastfed before, you'll understand that exclusive pumping is almost harder than being able to breastfeed your baby and/or a mix of both. We definitely want to travel and take her places, but I think we'll wait until after she's one :)

Nostalgia

I speak Chinese at home with my daughter. She doesn't understand what I'm saying yet, but it exposes her to the language. My theory is that my parents were both fluent in reading, writing, and speaking. I got....about half of their ability overall, maybe even less. So if the trend continues, my daughter will only get half of MY Chinese ability. That's not a lot...

So we're starting early with my poor tones, incorrect grammar, and all. It'll get better. I hope. But this blog isn't about my baby.

It'll be nearing five whole years since I left China. I have to remind myself I actually lived in a completely different culture and lifestyle than I was used to for an entire year. A lot of it feels like a blur to be honest. I can't remember details of what happened, and it seems like a lifetime ago. The one memory I can actually vividly remember is from our very first night after arriving in the city we would call home for a year.

We had taken the train from Beijing to Harbin. It was about 8 hours if I remember correctly. Once we arrived in Harbin, it was around 10 o'clock at night or later. The city was mostly quiet and dark. A teacher from our school, who was also sometimes our translator over the course of the year, had gone to Beijing and traveled back to Harbin with us on the train. He got us two taxis, gave them our destination, and we were driving off in the night in a foreign city to a place we would come to know very well.

I remember sitting in the taxi and staring out the window at the brightly lit signs that were on so late in the evening. Most of the city was shut down for the night, but certain signs and buildings were lit. I remember being in awe of my new surroundings and thinking, "This is going to be my new home."

The taxis stopped in the middle of the road somewhere and the driver told the teacher this was where we had to get off. The teacher asked if he could get us any closer. The driver said no because there was a lot of construction happening outside the main gate of the school, so that was the closest he could get us. The teacher seemed disappointed with his answer and insisted he drive us to the opposite side of the school wall and drop us off there because it was closer. The driver did not seem convinced it was closer, but he drove to the other side anyway.

I didn't know it that night, but over time as the campus became more familiar to me, I realized the driver was right. We ended up getting dropped off on the other side of the school gate and walked basically the entire width of the school to get to the gate and go in. Had we gotten off at our first stop, we could have saved ourselves about half the walk. Of course, we simply did what we were told and didn't complain or say anything because we were at the mercy of this new country in a new language and culture, and it was nearing midnight. We each had our two smaller bags. Our larger bags were shipped to the school so we did not have to lug them with us through the train station and onto the crowded train with very little storage.

Sidenote: Yes, I am Chinese and grew up eating Asian food, hearing the language, and even shared some of the same cultural values. But being Chinese in America is nothing compared to actually being Chinese and living in China. I was still very much foreign, very clueless, and my accent could be called out for being an outsider in about 10 seconds.

When we got to our dormitory, we knocked on the door, and the auntie who monitors the building came down and let us in. She asked if we wanted the keys to all the rooms. We just got two - the two on the lowest level (2nd floor) - and crashed for the night. It had been a long day of travel, but the hard work was yet to come.

The rest of the year was spent learning how to shower with a shoilet and hide your toilet paper so it didn't get wet, cooking on a hot plate, balancing ourselves on icy ground for six months out of the year, pushing our way through the school cafeteria so we could get our order in and eat before our lunch break was over, and many other lifestyle differences. I moved into a total of two apartments, one having only a few hours notice to move and get everything down the second time around.

My writing is not stellar, award winning, Nobel Prize material. But I'm glad I was able to write down some of the more interesting stories into a book. I'm glad I have it to share with my daughter when she is older. And I hope she can read the few Chinese sentences and phrases I've inserted throughout. Maybe there were more than a few...(Pretty sure I wrote it so context clues could give you an idea of the meaning at least.)

Do I miss China, or specifically Harbin? Yes and no. I really can't imagine ever living there again, especially not raising a baby. I remember seeing the marshmallow-looking babies bundled up in snowsuits in their mothers' arms. I constantly asked myself - how does the mother know if her baby is warm enough? Not to mention the potential danger of slipping on ice while holding your child in the winter...carrying eggs home from the market was dangerous enough!

But when memories come to me in the evening and I share them with my husband, I can't help but think how brave and bold I was at one point in my life to move halfway across the world and embrace a newness most people would immediately reject. What was once my life and home is now my nostalgia.