Category Archives: Hope

How long are we allowed to be kids?

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When we were getting ready to go to Kaia’s friend’s 4th birthday party in our building yesterday, out of nowhere, Kaia decided that she wanted to wear her cow costume (from Halloween two years ago, as it was oversized!) to the party. Originally, Chris was not a fan of this and insisted that she just wear regular clothes. But Kaia is stubborn (just like both of her parents), and she continued persisting that she really wanted to wear it. I thought about it for a minute and just told Chris that we should relent.

“We should just let her wear it,” I said to him. “She only has so much time when she can wear a costume like this when it will be considered ‘acceptable.'” Plus, she’s already slowly getting too long for this oversized costume, and she won’t be able to wear it soon anymore. So we should just let her get more wears and fun out of it as long as we can.

Of course, Kaia was thrilled. She insisted that the cow be fully zipped up, and that she even wear the cow “head” (the hood part). Knowing her, I had a feeling she’d last only a short time at the party with the outfit since it would get quite hot and stuffy, especially with so many people in the apartment. So predictably, the cow costume eventually came off. But of course, all the adults marveled at her cow costume initially. One of them even asked me, “So, is this her weekend outfit of choice?”

Kids can get away with so many things that adults could never get away with: making beelines and cutting people off for seats on public transportation; constantly angling for freebies at stories and restaurants; simply smiling and getting free candy from doormen in buildings; wearing single-piece full length costumes on just any average day. I love that about childhood, and I wish we could all learn to embrace it more. Childhood is finite — it will all come to an end, and then we will no longer be given grace on so many things. Well, I can’t really personally embrace it since I’m quite far from my childhood years, but I want to let Kaia embrace it for as long as possible. I want her to enjoy her childhood and not have her rush to become an adult. There’s so much fun and magic in childhood that gets lost when we focus too much on the future and “getting big.”

A 4-year-old’s birthday party

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Even though I am a parent to a four-year-old, in the grand scheme of early child parenting, I really haven’t attended or taken Kaia to that many birthday parties. Most of the “birthday parties” she has been to have been held at her school within classrooms, and the kids get some version of a cupcake or cake/ice cream, along with a goodie bag of toys/treats to take home. A friend in our building, whose son turned 4 today, told me that she really hated kids’ birthday party setups here, such as the ones at places like kids’ gyms and play spaces because it was really all about the kids playing and goofing around, along with some crappy “included” food like cheap, greasy pizza and soda — none of which grown parents would enjoy and would just suck up since it was part of the overall fee. And the fees are quite expensive: they are not something to sneeze at, especially when your kid is so young and will barely remember most of these things — other than through photos.

So she said that she preferred intimate gatherings with local friends and their kids. If they were traveling, they’d have dinners and cake cuttings with family. Today, she hosted us at her place just several floors down, where along with some local friends and their kids, we ate Popup Bagels (today, I learned these are for dipping, not for slicing and filling!), drank champagne, and also enjoyed two delicious, very “adult” cakes from Delice Macarons, a local French bakery on the Upper West Side. One was chocolate mousse cake (gluten free!) shaped like a mini chateau, while the second was another chocolate mousse with a very delicious and refined raspberry gelee. While I chatted with the other parents and kept a casual eye on Kaia to ensure she didn’t break anything, I thought to myself — this is such a refined birthday cake for a four-year-old child. Most kids of his age would never appreciate or even know how good they had it to have a cake this meticulously made — and probably very, very pricey! What a little dream to have a chocolate chateau as your birthday cake!

But that’s also what I think of Kaia Pookie: she has no idea how wide and refined of a palate she actually has. She doesn’t realize that she has such a breadth of cuisines, and has really only been exposed to fancy, gourmet chocolate — with the exception of that Twix she ate last October. ‘Tis the life of little kids who have food-appreciating parents as their mamas and daddies.

Proof that my child will become an omnivore (or stated differently, will not become a vegan)

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I’ve been clearing out most of the meat-based proteins in the freezer ahead of our upcoming Costco trip, and I found that I still had two packs of bone-in chicken thighs from Butcher Box. So I marinated them last night and roasted them, Vietnamese garlicky-style. I pulled all the meat off the bones and assembled what my mom would call a “cuon cuon” station: a shallow bowl-plate for dipping rice paper, a stack of rice paper, bowls with various herbs, lettuce, sliced cucumbers, pickled daikon/carrot, cooked rice noodles, crushed toasted peanuts, scallion oil sauce, a plate of just roasted garlicky chicken, bowls of nuoc cham for dipping. And because I had a random single egg remaining from the carton I just threw out, I also ribboned an egg omelet into strips to add to the cuon (rolls).

Kaia had her own vegetables and chicken on her plate at dinner time, but she was watching as I rolled chicken cuon for Chris and me. For the first time watching me do this, she was actually very fascinated. First, she asked if she could do it. Then, she realized quickly how finicky it was (these rice papers are very sticky and pliable for a 4-year-old!), so she asked me to make some cuon for her. And then, she happily tore into them and chewed them vigorously. She was very excited to finally “participate” in her cuon cuon station that her mama made. She instructed me on exactly how much of each filling she wanted in her cuon. I was so proud that she was embracing this for the first time, at age 4. There’s a first for everything!

Then at bedtime, we read a book together that included a unicorn and lots of food. And as per usual, Kaia likes to “pretend eat” all the food by “grabbing” all the food on the pages and pretending to chomp on and eat them. For the first time, she “grabbed” the unicorn and pretended to eat it.

“Pooks!” I exclaimed, a bit confused. “You can’t eat the unicorn!”

She smiled mischievously at me in response, then her face went blank. “Why not?” And then she paused and giggled. “I’m just pretending, mama!”

Unicorns are mythical animals. But my Pookie insists that she wants to “eat” them. I guess this may be a sign she has zero desire to become vegan anytime soon.

Making strawberry matcha latte at home

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The last time I was at a matcha cafe, I was very tempted to get their strawberry matcha latte. But then I balked at the price — $9. I thought to myself, I know I can easily make this for so much less at home, and I would enjoy doing it. So I ordered a cheaper matcha latte that day and made a mental note to myself that I had to buy strawberries when on sale next and commit to making the strawberry sauce base.

So I got two pounds of very ripe strawberries from a street vendor in Astoria last weekend, and this time I knew I was finally going to make this happen! I washed and cut up the strawberries, tossed them into a little saucepan with a little bit of sugar. Then I boiled and simmered it for about 10 minutes. I pureed the sauce and stored it in a jar in the fridge. The “hard” work was done here.

Today, I finally put it all together: I added about a quarter of a cup of the strawberry sauce to two tall glasses (for both Chris and me), then poured in about half a cup of milk to each. I took some of my Costco everyday matcha powder and whisked it with some hot water. I added this to the glasses along with some ice and stirred a bit. Then I took a sip.

This was definitely tasty, and likely more satisfying knowing that I made this all by myself… And knowing that each of these glasses did not cost $9! I am more than happy to pay for lattes or tea/coffee drinks out when I know I cannot be bothered making the equivalent at home. But for me, a strawberry matcha latte is very low effort, high reward. And as long as I have matcha at home and affordable access to sweet strawberries, then I’m all in on making these and enjoying at home.

When your esthetician actually compliments your skin

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Since about 2013, I’ve been getting a facial about once a year to treat myself. There have been some anomalies where I’ve gotten two facials in a year, but that was either because I got a second one because of President’s Club at my last company, or because some friends wanted to have a spa day together. Then in 2024, I got referred to a skin clinic in Midtown Manhattan by a friend, and I really liked the esthetician who worked with me. Since then, I’ve committed to about two-ish facials per year, plus a few laser treatments since in my middle age, I’ve discovered a little hidden body dysmorphia (I have a great track record for being slow to almost everything…). In this entire time, I’ve pretty much never gotten any compliments on my skin other than that I’ve always looked young for my age. (I will note that when I went to my first and only dermatologist appointment back in October, the doctor said my “skin looks great!” But alas, she said this in the context of moles and potential skin cancer, so take that with a grain of salt). Other than that, most previous estheticians have told me that I have “very congested” skin, or a congested nose (I mean, I do have Asian genes, so this tracks). And in the last few years, I’ve been told that my oily skin has morphed into “combination skin,” meaning that I am dry in some parts but oily in others. So, this has been a lot of fun!

So yesterday, I went in for a facial with my now-regular esthetician. And after the full facial treatment, she took a few photos for me and compared these to when I first started seeing her in mid-2024. And she said to me, “Yvonne, your skin is looking so good! It’s so much brighter than it was before. Just look at these before vs. now photos. Have you been doing something different to your skin lately?”

Well, yes. I started an Australian 20 percent azelaic acid cream every morning since the end of December. And then I started 0.025 percent Tretinoin two days after my birthday in January for about four days per week, so I guess I have been doing a lot that is more intense and different for my skin than before. So maybe this is what is making it “brighter?” I have no idea. I look at my face every single day and probably scrutinize it more than I should, but if she didn’t show me the photos, I likely would have thought my skin was never going to do any better than it did in 2024.

It does feel good when an objective other person can share with you that something about you is improving for the better, though. I hope my skin health keeps up!

All relationships are work

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The Oxford English dictionary defines work as, “activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.” If you know the strict definition of work, I think most would agree that all relationships are work. It doesn’t matter if it’s the relationship you have with your spouse, child, mother, friend, or colleague: all require a certain level of effort in order to sustain the relationship — at least, in some semi healthy way.

Chris and I just hit our 10-year wedding anniversary last month. His parents sent well wishes on our family Whatsapp group. Then his brother wished us a happy anniversary, also saying, “Good work on reaching 10 years of marriage!”

I looked at his message and smirked. “Thanks!” I responded back. “Ummm, yes. It is most definitely work!”

I told my friend, who is uncoupled, that we had reached our 10-year wedding anniversary and had been together for over 14 years now. She was flabbergasted.

“Shit, I don’t know how you do it!” she said to me after wishing us a happy anniversary. “How can you stand someone for that long, constantly in your space and not doing things the way you want them done?”

This friend knows I am anal-retentive with cleaning. She knows I like everything done in a very certain way in the kitchen. She also knows that I have very strong opinions. And on top of all that, she’s met Chris a number of times now and has had the chance to speak with him a decent amount, so she said she could already imagine how ridiculous and intense our disagreements and arguments would be.

I always wanted to get married. Ever since I learned what marriage was, I wanted to get married and live “happily ever after.” But I don’t think Disney fairy tales or the example of what “marriage” is supposed to be like based on my parents’ relationship were ever the best examples that set me up for success. I’ve spent decades reading psychology and sociology articles and studies, and took a number of classes on these topics. Hell, I even took a sociology course on sociology of marriage and family in college. And when I did therapy two different periods of my life, I spent a good amount of time talking about my relationships with my parents, friends, and Chris, and what I want and do not want to be or become. All of this has been really hard work and required a lot of thinking and introspection. Sometimes, getting to a state of self-awareness can be quite painful. Yet despite all that hard work, I still mess up and do and say stupid things I don’t really mean to say or do in the way it comes out. It’s like every day, I am trying to break out of inherited intergenerational trauma and redefine what I want to be in my relationships with Chris and others I love. I guess everyone is a little bit like that: we only know what we know — until we try to break unhealthy cycles — again, assuming we have a certain level of self awareness, or someone helps point it out to us.

But the work we put into relationships with those we love most is important. It’s probably the most important work of your life. It’s hard for me to imagine a life without those who are closest to me who I love the most. Frankly, I don’t want to be my dad in that sense: I don’t want to be a total loner with zero friends. I also don’t want to be in a marriage where I feel emotionally estranged from my spouse. So while many reject close friendships or serious romantic partnerships, I guess at the end of the day, I am still a romantic and want all these things to be a part of my daily reality.

So, the work continues.

The overachieving babysitter

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Tonight, we went out to dinner at a new and impossible-to-get-reservations restaurant with two friends who had a food distributor hook-up. We got the same babysitter who came over the night of my birthday dinner party this year. She is a complete overachiever: she came about fifteen minutes earlier than I asked the last time, and she followed all my instructions to a T. She probably even did more cleaning around my kitchen than I asked her to do the first time around. She especially stands out because of how meticulous and into detail she is, and also because she is so early.

Today, about 15 minutes she was supposed to arrive, this babysitter texted me. When I see a text coming from a babysitter just before they are supposed to arrive, I immediately assume it’s because they are running late and want to give me the head’s up. In this case, it was the total opposite: she wanted to let me know that she would be “late” as in, she would not be able to make it to our house ten minutes early. And she apologized in advance.

This babysitter is amazing. She is so nice, so prompt, so attentive to detail. And the best part is that Kaia truly adores her. She’s the only babysitter who Kaia has actually asked to see again, and demanded that she come back the next weekend. Our other regular babysitter… is regularly late. And she rarely apologizes for being late and rarely gives a head’s up she will be late unless I text her to ask for her ETA. And to make matters worse, she just raised her rate by 20 percent — and at last minute notice just four days before she was supposed to come babysit. So, yes, all of this has definitely left a sour taste in my mouth.

We don’t get a babysitter very often given it’s not cheap — it probably evens out to about once a month (when we’re here), or even less. But this babysitter is definitely on the real favorites list.

Friends for all different reasons

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Last night, Chris and I went out with our two friends for dinner and a comedy show (Jo Koy!) at Radio City Music Hall. We were talking about how I recently came back from my 40th birthday girls trip with two of my best friends, and they asked me how it went. And I answered it the way I’ve been answering it with everyone I’ve talked about it with since coming back.

“I had a lot of fun,” I said. “I loved the cave spa at the hotel. We caught up on a lot of things. But my main takeaway from the trip was that it served as a reminder to me that they’re my childhood friends.”

We have friends that come out of lots of different periods of our lives — growing up through our parents’ friends’ kids, relatives’ friends’ kids, classmates, friends through common interest extracurriculars; then, as you get older, you meet friends at college, through friends of friends, social events you attend, work, and the list goes on. But the friends you make during childhood and may be lucky enough to take into adulthood and beyond — they are your friends because you happened to be together at a certain time and place out of circumstances out of your control. So, in many ways, you were all kind of forced to be together. With that, you carry and share history together, and given this, they become more like your family rather than friends you chose because of aligned values or life perspectives.

In this trio, we fall into the same familiar and oftentimes annoying familial patterns that are almost sibling like. I tend to be the leader, making all travel arrangements and setting up itineraries, restaurant reservations, and coordinating times for what activities happen when. I also tend to be the one who has to push for things to happen… like certain activities at set times given flow of day, or for inane things like trash to be put in the trash bin. A second friend tends to be the “peacemaker” for better or worse: she will actually put the third person’s trash into the garbage can even when it’s not hers because she doesn’t want to “cause trouble,” but then this ends up enabling our third friend, who is a bit of mess. This friend always wants to stay neutral and gets frustrated when opinions are shared that she perceives as too strong — which are likely the vast majority of mine. Oftentimes my opinions are met with a response along the lines of, “Well, everyone is entitled to live where they want to.” Which is obviously true, but I wasn’t really saying my opinion as if it was the only right one, more that this was what I thought…? And our third friend is living life without thinking past tomorrow. She contributed zero to this trip other than paying for her share and showing up; she even admitted to never reviewing my itineraries in detail. It’s a good thing ChatGPT and Perplexity AI did most of the “work” for me. And as noted earlier, she’s sloppy and doesn’t really take responsibility for a lot of the way she is, or her life’s circumstances. I am sure to them, I can seem stubborn, pushy, too opinionated, and too quick to challenge. To a degree to certain personalities, I can see how I am all those things. But the truth is — as I am getting older, I am embracing these qualities even more because I am just getting even more and more comfortable in my own skin, living my life the way I want to.

As I’ve gotten older, I have really enjoyed meeting people who have lived very different lives from me. I ask more questions because I want to know what’s different and what I don’t know. At this point, I really don’t feel a need to meet more people from the Bay Area or people who have had similar life experiences to me unless it’s convenient. And I actually really enjoy it when people challenge my opinions or stances on specific topics. I don’t see it as a put-down or an attack; I actually see it as fun. I think it makes me think more. But not everyone believes this.

I feel very lucky all the time that I’ve maintained friends since age 11. They are like family to me and always will be. But I also feel very, very fortunate and privileged to have made some really great adult friends, even as recently as in the last two years, who have really added more fun, challenge, and perspective to my life. They align with the way I look at the world and the meaning I am trying to get out of my time on earth. And it’s been very refreshing. All friends serve different purposes in our lives, and so that’s why it’s important to have multiple friends to fill our cups in different ways. I am so, so lucky.

An evolving world whether we want to accept it or not

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I am back in North Carolina again today, but in a different city: Raleigh. I’ll be here for just over 24 hours. While here, I had to do something really annoying in preparation for my onsite work event tomorrow: make a stop at a FedEx location that was out in the middle of nowhere in the boondocks of Durham… just to pick up some posters that our marketing team had sent to our customer’s office park campus, but because the courier could not find the correct building, had to send it back to a local FedEx. After I checked into my hotel and went to my room to get some work done, I went out to get a Lyft to take me to FedEx.

My Lyft driver was really friendly and outgoing. He’s in his late 50s and has lived all over the Northeast of the U.S. Funnily enough, he was actually born in what is now Elmhurst Hospital and grew up in Woodside. I told him I was a transplant from San Francisco and actually spent my first four years in New York in Elmhurst. He did not believe me. He also did not believe me when I told him that Woodside is an up and coming area of Queens, and that trendy bakeries, cafes, and restaurants are actually opening there.

“You are lying!” the driver said, laughing hysterically. “There is NO WAY Woodside or Sunnyside is a place to eat out! It was a complete dump when I lived there, and it has to be just as bad today! High crime, gun shots, drugs everywhere — a place to never be seen! I don’t even want my 20-year-old kid going there!”

I challenged him (because I always do this now, and I own it). “Okay, then,” I said to him. “After you finish this ride, I’m serious: go on your phone. Look up the business From Kora on Google Maps and look up the ratings and reviews. It’s one of the top rated bakery/cafes in all of New York City! People travel from all parts of the city, New Jersey, and even Connecticut to line up and eat pastries from there! GO DO IT! Places change and evolve over time. I realize that’s hard for a lot of people to stomach, but no place stays the same forever.”

Mr. Anti Sunnyside/Woodside still didn’t believe me. He still thought I was joking. Then we drove closer to the FedEx where there were signs for downtown Durham. He started telling me about how when he first moved to the Raleigh-Durham area 30 years ago, downtown Durham and Raleigh were “absolutely disgusting.” No one wanted to go there or be seen in those areas. Today, both places have growing businesses and offices flourishing. Both have great restaurant and bar scenes. People from the ‘burbs actually do come in to dine at these restaurants.

The driver hesitated for a bit and realized his double standard in his own speech. “Okay, so maybe Woodside and Sunnyside are experiencing this change that you claim Woodside and Sunnyside are,” he relented. “Fine — I’ll admit that I haven’t been back to that area in over 30 years. I just haven’t had any reason to, and I definitely had no desire based on what I grew up with!”

Nothing stays the same forever — no town, city, state, country, person, dog, anything. We can either evolve with it and go with the flow, or be doomed to stay in our own old, aging fixed mindsets.

When your kid ends up in urgent care while you’re on a flight home

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I came home today, ready to give my sweet Kaia Pookie a big hug when I got through the door. But coming home this afternoon wasn’t quite what I envisioned. It was weirdly quiet when I entered the apartment. Chris turned over to look at me, barely greeting me. Instead, the first words out of his mouth were, “She had an accident.”

I looked over his shoulder at my Kaia Pookie, sitting quietly on the living room rug amidst a bunch of her toys. Her arms were sprawled out as though she was just leaning back on the couch, but the entire center of her face was bloody and mucusy. I slowly walked up to talk to her. While she looked straight up at me, she didn’t respond or smile; she basically had no reaction. She was lethargic and seemingly in pain and/or shock. I took her in my arms to hold her, while also occasionally pressing an ice compress to her nose and wiping away more blood and snot. She was eager to come into my embrace and clearly needed the cuddles.

Chris explained that while they were at the Transit Museum earlier today, Kaia was running around on an old bus when suddenly, she tripped on something and fell down very hard, face first. He actually didn’t see this happen, but some bystanders in the museum told him that his child had fallen. As soon as he got to her and lifted her face up, all he could see was blood everywhere. He immediately took her to the bathroom to get cleaned up, but the blood just kept coming out. A museum worker waited outside to see if she was okay, and kindly offered an ice pack. Chris wasn’t sure if she was okay or if something more serious could be wrong, so he took her to the closest Urgent Care, where they checked her out, did a few tests to ensure she didn’t have any major head injury, and then said that we just needed to monitor her to ensure she was “still herself” and that she didn’t lose consciousness.

We spent the rest of the early evening intermittently icing her nose and wiping away her runny nose snot and blood. I knew she was quite herself, though, because I kept talking to her in Chinese, and she responded logically and with expected answers. When I asked her if she wanted a surprise gift I brought back for her, she immediately nodded. Then minutes later, she kept asking for her surprise gift. I took it out for her: a deluxe princess coloring book. She looked at it and was clearly in love. I asked her if she wanted to color with it now, and she nodded and ran to get her markers. Chris teased her and said it was actually his gift; I had already presented him with dark chocolate covered sour cherries from a popular local Asheville chocolate shop when she was sitting down. My Kaia Pookie was clearly lucid and understanding every single thing that was happening. Her face turned down, and she yelled, “No, that’s mine! You already got a present!”

Phew. So fingers crossed, it doesn’t look like she suffered any major head injury. But what crappy luck that this happened when I wasn’t home. I asked Chris if he missed me while I was gone. He responded in his usual in-character Chris way: “Well, you would have been really useful here today.”

And that is what a “romantic” response sounds like when you’ve been together for 14-plus years, and married (at least, celebration-wise) for ten years — just in case you weren’t already familiar with it.