The List

I don't actually know what a healthy level of reading and writing should be at the kindergarten level, but I'm pretty sure my daughter is on par if not ahead of the game. It's been a lot of work keeping up with her homework, but she's learning a lot so we choose to put forth the effort. 

She started writing "lists" recently, but it's really just a bunch of scribbles on a piece of paper. She made an H-E-B list as well as a B-B-q list. I'm not really sure what B-B-q is supposed to be, but I know where she got her H-E-B inspiration from, haha. 

She kept telling me she was going to make a shopping list and give it to me. So I told her, sure, make your list and give it to me. Anything she can write down, spelled correctly, and read to me accurately, I will purchase at the store. 

I might be shooting myself in the foot with this offer because she's a lot smarter than I think (maybe). So I gave her two caveats:

- She has to do this before her 6th birthday or the offer expires.

- There's a $50 limit on what I buy off her list.

Oh, and obviously no parental help on this list. That should be understood, but I'll have to tell my husband just to make sure we're on the same page. *You're reading this, right? Got it? 😝*

Let's be honest. If the kid figures out how to spell lobster, and adds the word whole in front of it, I'm screwed. Especially if that's not the only item on the list! (Academically, she has learned all the phonetic rules to piece together those two words. 😱)

I'm kind of excited actually. I legitimately want to see what she would write on the list and what she actually wants me to buy. "Peas" is easy, but she doesn't like peas. Probably wouldn't want "beans" either. She might write "rice" but I can afford that one. 

Am I a genius or a crazy mother for doing this? Anyone out there want to try this for your kids now?? 😄

The Power of Play

We’ve had many things lost under our refrigerator at one point or another. There was a trapped marker for the longest time which I fetched out a while after it was originally lost. There have been blueberries hiding underneath from being dropped on the floor. Once I spilled a bag of frozen shrimp and one was barely tucked underneath the fridge. It’s a good thing I saw that one in time and fished it out before it mysteriously stunk up the kitchen.

One item which had been lost underneath the refrigerator and never rescued was a lone chopstick. I no longer remember when and how it was dropped, but this one single chopstick was trapped underneath for the longest time. Multiple occasions, we said we’d fish it out, and we never did, because let’s be honest. Life gets busy. There are other things more important than fishing out a single chopstick. And quite frankly, if our children hadn’t noticed it one day while playing on the floor, we would never have noticed we were missing one because we’ve always had plenty of extra.

Yesterday, something amazing happened. My five-year-old found a way to get the chopstick out from underneath the refrigerator. She grabbed a flashlight which they already played with and built a long stick out of some Lego pieces. Then, while shining the light underneath the refrigerator, used the Legos to swipe the chopstick out from underneath. Genius, right? 

Creative genius at its finest. 

To our credit, she’s seen me innovatively fix things or solve problems for her using everyday objects. She had seen her daddy just earlier take a stick with some fabric wrapped around it and clean dust from underneath the sofa. Perhaps this inspired her to do the same underneath the refrigerator to get the chopstick out. (Now, the real question is, why did my husband not swipe underneath the fridge to retrieve this chopstick instead of swiping under the sofa? Ha….)

When I see my daughter display these moments of brilliance, it makes me so proud. At the same time, I wonder if my mother noticed these things when I was younger. Did she ever watch us do something profound or special? If she did, it’s a shame there is no record or written evidence of it. And it’s a pity she will never be able to tell me about them.

I’ve never been one of those mothers to keep the house absolutely sparkling and to discourage my children from playing with non-toys. Yes, there are things she should not be playing with. But if it’s not a dangerous or precious item, chances are, I’ll let her play with it. And as a result, I get to see her be creative, be innovative, and think in ways much beyond her years. Do I encourage this because I want her to be top of her class earning the highest grades possible? Nah. I truly don’t because I wasn’t that student myself. What do I care about? I need to know that she is going to be okay without me whenever that day comes, whether through natural, healthy reasons, or due to heartbreaking circumstances.

She’s slowly showing me she will.

PT R2

My daughter potty trained during Covid at 2.5 years old. Also, I got tired of paying for diapers for two after about six to eight months. After she potty trained, I told myself I was going to potty train my son by the time he was 21 months old - by the end of the next calendar year. 

Haha. Jokes on me. 

Here we are nearly two years later from my initial ambitious thought, and almost two months into the process since we started. In the beginning, it felt promising because he was going potty on the toilet and staying dry. However, I was reminding him and setting timers every 30-45 minutes. We soon realized, this was not true potty training as he would not go unless we reminded or asked him. The instant we forgot, he had wet bottoms.

This continued for about a month with reminders when we remembered and wet clothes when we didn't. I then started incentivizing him with candy. This definitely made a difference and he started to take initiative in going to the potty instead of only when we reminded him. We kept continuing to keep up good habits at home but wearing a diaper when we went out in public, especially for extended periods of time.

I remember watching the lead teacher give skittles to kids in our 18-24m 
old class when they could communicate their need to use the 
restroom. And now it's my reward for my own children.   

The real progress appeared one morning when I had a two-hour board meeting via Zoom. So although I was merely feet away from my children, I couldn't help them do much. I did notice my son go to the bathroom at least once in my meeting.

When I witness small wins like this in parenting and life, it warms my heart, because they're little reminders I have succeeded as a parent. When they no longer need my reminders and will do what they're supposed to do (something as simple as peeing into the toilet and not into the underwear), it's a little preview of what I hope the rest of their life looks like. 

Potty training my son took much longer than it took my daughter, but it was actually much less stressful. There was way more laundry and soiled clothing to wash but much less yelling and crying. We are far from being a diaper-free household as he still needs one at night, but it still saves a huge chunk of change to not be changing diapers during the daytime. 

Subtle Reminders

The blog has been quiet lately because life has been crazy. I've been smirking at myself this entire year because in the middle of January, I distinctly remember sending one of my friends a text message: This year in 1/24ths over. And over the next few months I recalled this text with her a few times and the fraction kept getting larger and larger.

And here we are in the middle of November. The year is 21/24ths over. 

I was washing the dishes today after we returned home from school. The groceries went into the fridge, the laundry went into the dryer, and the kids were playing by themselves. My son was already outside playing in the backyard and my daughter wanted to join him. She came up to me as I was washing and told me she wanted to go outside. I told her to put her sweater on and she ran off to do so. 

After a moment of quiet, I called out to see if she was still getting ready or if she'd already ran outside. She told me she was getting her shoes on and within seconds, I heard the door open and shut. She's only five years old, but it's already happening. In my mind, I was picturing a teenager grabbing her things to leave and drive herself somewhere. Honestly, the feeling as a mother is exactly the same. I just got a sample of what is to come. 

After finishing the dishes, I cleaned up our back hallway which becomes the dumping grounds for everything when we come inside. As I brought the kids schoolbags back to the table, I happened to glance at the window and noticed a tear in the curtain. 

And just like that, I was transported back to being the mother of young children who are totally oblivious and unaware of their surroundings at times. I could almost guess exactly how this curtain came to be ripped and why the kids didn't even notice.

They like to climb on the window sill and look outside for fun. We have a table placed against the wall adjacent to this window. A portion of the table overlaps the window. It is very likely as they were playing by the window and the curtain that the curtain got shoved up against the corner of the table and tore without them even knowing it.

I'm not actually mad about it. These were the first curtains I ever bought for the house when we first moved in. They're nothing special to me. It is inconvenient that they're now ripped in the middle, but I'm not even going to bother replacing them. We also have extras anyway from when we replaced the window treatments in my studio. 

In a way, it was a nice reminder I still have little children in my house. And part of me would like it to stay that way a little while longer. 🥰

New Traditions

I've reached a point in my life where I've started splurging on myself. I don't go overboard or spend excessively, but by my own standards, I've definitely loosened the purse strings from my former self. Back in August, I was randomly browsing a shoe store and came across these flats on the discounted rack. I'd never purchased anything from this designer before, but they spoke directly to the young teenage girl who still lived inside my now grown-up practical adult self. 

Very blinged out, extra, shoes. Who recognizes the designer? 😛

They were discounted to $56, and I had a coupon that could bring it down another $10. However, $46 + tax was not in my budget to buy these shoes. I even mentally told myself if I could find them for around $30, I would pay for it. 

Normally, I don't fall for things like this anymore because I understand the realities of how useful things are. Beautiful shoes like this don't have many chances to get worn unless I want to wear them to the grocery store, to pick up my kids from school, or to doctor's appointments. Although I could wear these shoes to any of the previously mentioned locations, it would just seem slightly overkill to do so. 

I didn't purchase the shoes that day. But a part of me couldn't shake the desire to buy these shoes. Why was I so fixated on them?

Because a part of me wanted to match my daughter. I had purchased new shoes for her to wear to her piano festivals, and she had picked out a very glittery, blinged-out pair herself. They were meant to be a replacement for the pair she was gifted from a friend which she'd now outgrown. It was an incentive for her to play in-person in front of a judge the traditional way instead of relegating to making videos and submitting them online like many of my students choose to do now. I didn't even tell her she had the option to record. Shhh don't tell her 😆 

Normally, I'm not one to focus on aesthetics or "trends". I never even bothered dressing my daughter up as a baby because it was easier to grab a onesie and some pants. But as she grows up and I get older, the hard truths sink in deeper: we are only as young as we are right now in this moment. And it would be legit cute to match her at music festivals. She would be dressed up to play, and I can wear my extra flats as a teacher volunteer. It could be our tradition to keep alive as long as she wanted to learn piano.

This is something I've always thought about as both a mother and a teacher. Growing up, I had terrible memories of my piano competitions. My mother didn't even go to many because it was easier for her to stay at home. The one I distinctly remember her being at was the spring of 1999. She wasn't sick yet. I had just finished second grade, and it was my second time competing. I played the third movement of a sonatina, and there was a small portion in the middle where I stumbled for a bit. I finished playing, left the room, and the next memory I remember is being in a practice room getting yelled at by my mom. And she wasn't even my teacher. 😓

These are the things that traumatize us. Our parents never intentionally do these things to hurt us, but that's how it comes out: it hurts us. As an adult and a mother, I understand she wanted the best for me. She knew I could play it without stumbling in the middle, and she wanted me to win because she knew I was talented and capable of winning. What memory is an 8-year-old left with? Getting yelled at in a practice room after performing.

I don't want that for my daughter. And I'm her teacher. I don't want her to remember getting yelled at for stumbling during a performance. I want her to remember how fun it was to dress up, to match her teacher, and play on a big, fancy piano at a big school. I want her to remember how fun it was to get dressed, to match her mommy, and play on a big, fancy piano at a big school. And years later, no matter if piano becomes a long lost memory or if she still plays regularly in 30 years, she'll look back fondly on these subtle things which made learning piano fun. 

So this is why I bought a pair of very extra, very glittery flats which I will probably wear 2-3x a year, and it will be worth every penny because of the memories.

You know what the second best part is? I found them for the price I wanted. 🥰

The Ultimate Miracle

We had the same initials before our marriages, and we had the same initials after we got married. Her husband and my husband have the same name. We taught together for a year. She gifted me a recipe book with hand-written recipes when I got married. I visited her when she was on her third maternity leave and held her five-week-old baby who shares the same name as me. We lived five minutes from each other. 

Although we weren't inseparable best friends, we lived a lot of life with each other through ten years of friendship.

I used to accompany my dad's choir which was made up of older men and women who got together socially to sing. About 4 years ago when I was pregnant with my second child, I remember having a conversation with one of the older ladies. She had said to me, "You young people get to go to weddings and celebrate births of babies. Us old people are attending each other's funerals." It was meant to be a joke, but it held a bit too much truth. 

Little did I know I'd be grieving for a "young person" far too soon. 

It's really easy to go through my days and feel normal. I take care of my kids. I cook food for my family. I have a job. But there is a part of me that succumnbs to this overpowering grief if I let it. Because her reality is a nightmare I've lived from the other side.

My heart sank when I read her first CaringBridge entry. It was the same disease my mother was diagnosed with. And she had five young children. My mother had two. October 1, 2023 forever changed their lives the way May 1, 2004 changed mine. My heart aches for the rest of their lives knowing they will walk the same path I did. It is not one I wanted or chose, but was forced to accept. I am heartbroken they must accept it as well. 

I couldn't bring myself to visit her because I didn't want to sob hysterically the whole time. I was already doing that behind closed doors in my own home. I didn't want to be a complete mess in front of her as one of our last visits. Instead, I wrote her a letter. I'm glad I wrote her, and I'm glad she was well enough to be able to read it. 

As a person of faith, I'm very frustrated with God right now. In my head, I know He is the Almighty. I know His plan is perfect. I know He knows what He's doing. But I'm sad for her husband. I'm sad for her children. And I'm sad for what she had to accept and come to terms with in leaving this life far too soon. 

Jesus himself prayed in Gethsemane, "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." He prayed this prayer three times, displaying the very human characteristic of fear, while at the same time, possessing the foresight of God knowing what had to be done. 

Our pastor recently preached that death is a miracle. It's a miracle that is oftentimes overlooked. We think of miraculous healings as miracles. Screenings where the cancer is suddenly gone are miracles. Yes, these are miracles, and yes, they do happen today. So when someone's sickness is not cured, we wonder. We question. Where is God? 

God's miracle in death is that we are healed from the pains of this world and have the gift of eternal life with Him. I have to remind myself she is no longer hurting. She is no longer suffering. And that is the bittersweet comfort we get in saying goodbye to a friend of faith. What I am sad for are the human experiences of sadness and loss. Yes, I am very sad. But I am not hopeless. 

I hope she gets to meet my mother. And I hope she can tell my mother about the adult version of me my mother never got to see herself. 

Goodbye for now, friend. 

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. - Hebrews 11:1

All Four Bicycling

My mother didn't know how to ride a bike. I've known this about her, but for the last however many years, this fact has eluded my memory. Today as I was riding my bike next to my daughter, I remembered.

I occasionally glanced over to see my daughter riding her bike next to me. I thought about my old childhood memories riding my bike. It was always the three of us. My mother never came. I'm sure she had things to do around the house, or maybe she wanted quiet time away from us. But it may have been that she didn't know how to ride and could not come with us.

We went to Martha's Vineyard twice. The first summer we went, the boys rented bicycles and biked to the beach from the town. My mother and I took the bus and met them there. I remember feeling sad I didn't get to ride a bike with the rest of the kids. At the same time, I was too scared to ride on a rental bike (and I don't think any of them actually fit me.) The second summer we went, I rented a bike and rode to the beach with the boys. My mother rode the bus by herself. On the way back, we had to ride back through the crowded town streets. It was my first time riding a bicycle without back-pedaling brakes, and I wasn't completely comfortable with hand brakes. As we rode through the town, there was a downhill road, my bicycle picked up speed, I didn't know how to comfortably stop using my hand brakes, and I lost control and there was a minor collision of some sort. I was okay. 

This was the souvenir I'd picked out from one of the trips.
My mother wanted to buy things that would be practical with purpose.
I wanted something pretty. This...met both the the requirements.
Sort of. It's a business card holder. Little did I know at age 11-12,
I would have business cards for it a decade and a half later. :) 

My daughter finally got the courage to try and ride her bicycle again without training wheels. It helped to go riding a few times with our neighbor's kids. Watching them inspired her to ride again and try without the training wheels. I've known she's been ready for years now, but her own fear was holding her back. We started her on a balance bike and she was very comfortable with it around 2-3 years old. However, her fear of not having her feet touch the ground and the inconsistency of spending time outside practicing prevented her from learning how to ride a bicycle until now. It's still pretty early if you ask me. 

I don't have memories biking with my mother. That's an activity she got left out of because she didn't know how. I'm hoping my children's memories of biking will be able to include all four of us.