When you’re close but never see each other

People oftentimes make comments about how sad it must be for Chris and me to live so far away from our families. Our family members are all either in San Francisco or somewhere in Australia, neither of which is a quick car ride or flight away. Both trips take both money and time commitment, and outside of Chris’s parents, no one really wants to come visit us here regularly, as strange as it may sound since New York City is likely one of the most exciting cities in the world.

The thing about commenting on the distance is always funny to me, though. Just because family members or friends may be close distance-wise, that doesn’t necessarily mean that we’d see each other more often. It might be easier or cheaper, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily equate to more frequent visits or hangouts. At most, I see friends who live here in New York once a month, and that’s only very close friends. We all have our own lives and commitments, and it really does take a strong desire to commit to spending a day or evening with someone.

My aunt, who lives in San Francisco, texted me a some photos of when her middle child, his wife, and their two teenage children came to visit her at her house two days ago. I knew that they barely saw each other at all even though my cousin lives just a 30-minute drive away. When I asked my aunt when the last time they’d seen each other was, she responded, “at your wedding.”

Hmmmmm. That was in March 2016. So they literally have not seen each other in over 7.5 years, despite all living in proximity right in the Bay Area. That’s what happens when you’re close distance-wise to family – you can just tend to forget about them completely.

Basketball Hall of Fame

i think it goes without saying that if you know me, you will know that I care little to nothing about sports. Do I think sports can be fun? Yes. Do I understand the value they bring to people and communities? Of course. But I don’t really get much joy out of watching games. The closest I’ve ever really enjoyed sports as a spectator has been at a couple hockey and basketball games. I suppose the World Cup football in Brazil was fun, but I think that was more about the atmosphere as opposed to simply watching the sport itself. I also do not have an athletic bone in my body (though, I have a feeling that as a young child, if I had really put my mind to being good at something, whether that something was volleyball or basketball, with some grit and coaching, I probably could have played decently). But I do appreciate learning the history of sports, and they do a pretty good job of detailing this specifically for basketball at the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield.

I didn’t know that basketball was created by a Canadian American physical education teacher who was charged with the task of creating a sport that could be played indoors between (American) football and baseball season. I did not know it was created in 1891 in Springfield. I also had no idea that the first “basket” they used for the hoop was actually that of a peach basket. On the ground floor of the Hall of Fame, they have a big open court where you can freely shoot hoops, so we indulged in this while Pookster napped in her stroller. You had the option of shooting into a regular hoop, as well as two peach baskets. Getting the ball into the peach basket was especially interesting because of how the ball enters the basket and then proceeds to spiral slowly down. That would definitely slow down the high speed of basketball!

Indian food in Springfield

As someone who has either always lived in or in close proximity to a major city, I am one of those “big city” people who has oftentimes stereotyped smaller cities and towns for not always having great multiethnic cuisine. Is it a negative stereotype? Yes. Is it always true? Of course not. But the reason it’s a stereotype is because it’s true in a lot of cases. I don’t think anyone in Springfield, Massachusetts, thinks that Springfield is the Indian food mecca of the United States. But what might be surprising is that one of the very best Indian meals we’ve had at a restaurant recently has been in Springfield, or specifically at the restaurant Panjabi Tadka.

I was perusing different food blogs and looking at Google Reviews and Yelp when compiling our list of potential places to eat at while in Springfield, and Panjabi Tadka seemed to get very positive reviews. Apparently, a lot of business travel takes people to Springfield, and a number of those visitors who self identified as Indian said they were traveling from other large metropolitan areas, and the food they ate at Panjabi Tadka was, they declared, the best Indian food they’d had in the entire United States. Well, that’s a pretty big compliment.

Panjabi Tadka says on their menus that everything they make is “handmade/house made.” And after eating the food, I really believe it. We ordered gobi manchurian, aloo paratha, lamb curry, saag paneer, two pooris, one sweet lassi, and one mango lassi. The curries came with rice as well as freshly made pappadams, which already hinted at how good the food would be to come. The pappadams were lightly spiced with whole cumin seeds. The pooris were clearly freshly fried and drained, with this beautiful golden hue that I don’t recall ever seeing on a poori before. The saag paneer was rich, but not too buttery: it was clear they used a mixture of greens and not just spinach to create a complex greens flavor. I also loved that the pieces of paneer were a bit irregular, which meant that they definitely made the paneer (cheese) in house. Chris raved about how fluffy the basmati rice was, as well as the taste and texture of the lamb in the curry: “This lamb is like the lamb you get in Australia.” That is a huge compliment coming from him, my Aussie baby.

After tasting how good all the food was, especially the paneer, we decided to get ras malai for dessert since it would also be cheese based. And it was definitely NOT a mistake: this was some of the creamiest, most delicious ras malai I’d had. I couldn’t believe how light and creamy the texture was on these little cheese paddies. It was a couple bites of total heaven!

While we obsessed about how good the main dishes were, Pookster just continued to fixate on the pappadam (“Cracker! Cracker!”) and barely ate much of anything else. But well, at least we enjoyed our very delicious North Indian meal at a little unassuming restaurant in Springfield, MA.

The Amazing World of Dr. Seuss in Springfield

Growing up, I didn’t own a lot of books. My parents heavily relied on the local public library for reading, and then, I didn’t know the difference between owning or borrowing a book. All I knew was that I loved reading, loved books in all forms, and loved stories. Given that I didn’t own many children’s books, I never had a deep attachment to any one book or story. When I hear about people in my age range still having fond memories of reading Goodnight, Moon, Dr. Seuss books, or The Very Hungry Caterpillar over and over, I can’t really relate to it.

There are some children’s books, though, that have been around for what feels like forever that people as adults are still attached to and obsessed with. Dr. Seuss’s books are some of them. Dr. Seuss’s real name was Theodor Seuss Geisel, and he was responsible for writing and illustrating endless children’s books, including the classic The Cat in the Hat, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and Green Eggs and Ham. During World War II, Dr. Seuss also took a break from children’s books to focus on political cartoons for a number of publications. Since Theodor Seuss Geisel was born and raised in Springfield, this is also where the Amazing World of Dr. Seuss the museum is, so we thought it would be fun to take Kaia here. The ironic part about taking her to the Dr. Seuss museum is that to my knowledge, she has never read any Dr. Seuss book (unless the ex-nanny read one to her at the library and didn’t tell me).

When at museums like this one or the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa, California, the parts of the exhibits that I find the most interesting are the ones that talk about the personal lives of the artist. I loved the part of the exhibit where Geisel’s nephew (also named Theodor without an “e” at the end”) donated to the museum the endless cards and letters that Geisel had sent him over the years, each with a cute little message, (it’s hinted there was also cash/check included in many as a gift), and a fun illustration in the same style as his famous children’s books. What a treat it would be to receive something handmade and illustrated like that for every birthday or Christmas!

The Dr. Seuss museum isn’t a traditional “exhibits” type museum, though, as it was made and designed for kids to interact. Kaia especially loved the turtle shell area and (predictably) the bakery where she could “cook.” I was really impressed with how colorful and elaborate the entire place was. If Kaia were just a little older, she could have enjoyed more of it, as there were some interactive parts that had arts and crafts and other fun activities.

It was a fun visit both indoors with the museum and outdoors with the Dr. Seuss sculpture garden. Though it definitely came at a steep price: $25 per adult! At least Kaia was free!

Fall festivities with a young toddler in western Massachusetts

I have always loved fall foliage. The sad thing, though, about growing up in California is that in that region of the United States, fall foliage or the gradual but vibrant color change of leaves, is pretty much nonexistent. When I was young, I was never educated as to why the leaves change color in parts of the U.S. like the northeast, so I thought that maybe, just maybe all this leaf peeping fascination was just made up.

Well, I moved to the northeast for college in August 2004, so autumn 2004 was my very first time being immersed in these beautiful shades of orange, red, yellow, gold, and deep purple. I probably spent more time than I should have stressing over midterms and other school work related tasks, but I did remember the fun of stepping and crunching over fall leaves and throwing them all in the air. It was like being a little kid all over again, just for the first time with this type of experience. When I first came out to the northeast, I thought about all the seasonal festivities kids (and, well, adults) get to have: the autumn leaf peeping and crunching, the apple orchards and cider donuts, the hay rides, the pumpkin carving. It’s not that most of those things cannot be done in other parts of the U.S. It’s more that with the crisp autumn air and temperatures, it seems like a more perfect fit here, where you get a real fall/autumn.

So we looked around at areas where Kaia could get big bunches of leaves and throw them everywhere. We found it at Mason Square today, which is in front of where the first game of basketball was played here in Springfield in 1891. The leaves were not quite crunchy because of the on and off rain, but at least they were bright and golden. We showed Kaia how to grab a bunch and throw them, and being a toddler, she was quite excited and tried to throw some herself. With each throw of leaves and each leaf that fell on her head, she let out her sweet little giggle of wonder and delight. And of course, I tried to document this with as many photos and videos as I could get. I even dressed her in an autumn leaf/flower top in anticipation of capturing these moments. It was sweet to watch her embrace this and throw the leaves here and there. Her fascination with the leaves (and of course, trying to put one in her mouth) was heartwarming to watch. She’s learning about all different seasonal parts of our world, one look and touch at a time.

Throwing fall/autumn leaves with Pookster

I took today off from work so that we could take a long weekend and drive up to Springfield, Massachusetts, for some autumn festivities, which included visits to an apple orchard, a farm with a pumpkin patch and farm animals, museums, and outdoor walks. We took Kaia to see some farm animals once again, and this time at Fletcher Family Farm, she enjoyed seeing the baby cows and getting closer to them than she got to the goats at the last farm during our Richmond, Virginia, trip. She waved and said hi over and over to all of them, going to each of them and waving hi. Even when they moved closer to her, she didn’t flinch as much, and she genuinely seemed to be observing them carefully and inspecting them.

We also Kaia look at all the fall mums decorating the pumpkin patch and on display for sale, and also the pumpkins. Fletcher Farm is really well set up: although the hay rides and kids’ activities are only on the weekends, they have plenty of photo ops for children that are cute, with pumpkins, a barn door, and the like. While every northeast family probably takes their kids to these types of places at least once, they probably also want to ensure they get some cute photos with all these things. Sometimes, it can work, and other times, it results in the kids getting mad at being told what to do and where to go and ultimately end up in tears (both happened to us with Pookster in a very short span of time, as hilarious as it was).

The apple orchard I chose was closed this season for “Pick Your Own” unfortunately, but we still picked up some delicious spiced apple cider donuts and local jams. And in the light rain, Chris drove us up to an apple tree that had fruit on it, and I took Kaia out and carried her so she could see apples on the trees. She initially seemed confused, but when I told her they were apples, she got really wide-eyed and excited, constantly touching the apples, and then proceeded to even knock one of the apples off the tree!

I love seeing fruits and vegetables growing, but seeing the joy and excitement on a little toddler’s face like my Pookster makes the experience even more worth it. Every day, I want her to learn and be exposed to something new. We can be jaded as adults by things like “pick your own,” but I do think it teaches kids about where food comes from. It’s not just from your fridge or the grocery store. There is labor, love, and effort that goes into all this.

Customer fire drill at 6:45am

I was really sore this morning from yesterday’s workout, so I shut off my 6am alarm and decided to lie in bed and rest another hour. What I was not expecting was a call at around 6:45, when I got out of bed, from a customer who had recently signed a contract with us. I was not happy to see this, as I knew a call this early could only mean something really terrible had happened.

I was brushing my teeth and saw the missed call. Then, I saw the text from the same customer: “Check your email. We need an action plan ASAP.” Something about their technical configuration had gone wrong, so my morning basically got derailed. I couldn’t do my planned workout when I wanted and had to help troubleshoot and calm the storm. I came late to another customer call. It was definitely not a highlight of my week, but I think my team and I handled it pretty well. I think we were also able to adequately calm our customer down.

“You really managed her so well!” My boss’s boss told me, five calls and who knows how many emails and text messages later.

The truth is that after having worked full time for over 15 years now, with almost all of that time being spent in customer facing roles, I will say that there’s really no such thing as an emergency that could mean life or death, so while I may be tense, I rarely show my stress on my face with customers or colleagues. Our “emergencies” have urgency, but no one’s life is on the line. And I always keep that perspective every time chaos like this crops up.

“Mummy blanket!”

People talk about the “terrible 2s” when toddler tantrums and demands get a bit out of control. The toddler tantrum period actually starts much earlier than age 2 as we’ve seen; they started earlier this year, probably around the time that Kaia was about 14-15 months old. The reason these tantrums happen is that babies at this stage are becoming more aware of their surroundings, as well as their own feelings and desires, and when those things don’t always align with what the adults in their lives want, this can result in inner turmoil for the child… hence the tantrum. While these moments can certainly be exhausting and infuriating, I have always remembered in these moments to try really, really hard not to react, especially angrily, and to be as calm as possible. I am also grounded by the sweet moments that I have with Pookster, like this one that happened tonight.

Once we got ready for story time before bed, I asked Kaia to choose some books as always that she wanted to read together. She happily complied as always, grabbing a handful of books and dragging them onto the bed. She also asked for her baby blanket, which I gave her. She’s really enjoyed sleeping with her blanket in the last few months, likely because she’s had a blanket during nap time at daycare, so she’s used to having it. But when I gave her the baby blanket, she paused and then started crying and yelling, “No! No, no, no!” I got so confused. I gave her the blanket she asked for. What was making her upset?

I took the blanket away. She yelled “No!” again and grabbed it back. And then, she pointed at the big blanket folded at the foot of the bed that I leave for myself when it gets a bit chilly at night during story time when I’m with her. She yelled, “Mummy blanket! Mummy blanket!” And then it finally dawned on me: she wanted not only for her to have her baby blanket, but for her mummy to also have a big blanket. So I asked, “Do you want mummy to use a blanket, too?” and she nodded her head vigorously in response, continuing to point at the big blanket. Even though it was a bit warm, I decided to appease her and wrap the blanket around my legs. “Are you happy now that mummy has her blanket, too?” I asked her. She smiled ear to ear while pointing at my blanket: “Mummy blanket!” And then, she pointed at her own blanket I put on top of her, saying, “Kaia blanket!”

It was beyond sweet. My heart was so warmed. She wanted both of us to be warm and snuggly under a blanket. My sweet baby never fails to surprise me with her tenderness and affection in the moments I never suspect.

75 vs. 75

Last night, I had dinner at a Georgian restaurant with my 9th grade English teacher, who I’ve kept in touch with since I graduated from high school. When I look back at my childhood, I realize that I am very fortunate to have developed positive, lasting relationships with a couple of my teachers, who were always positive role models for me. They were people who always genuinely cared and showed interest in me, not just as a student, but as a person. My former teacher and now friend was in town visiting from San Francisco, and so we got together for dinner to catch up, as I hadn’t seen her since the last time I was back home last August.

Every time I see her, I am reminded of all the “what could be” situations with my parents. She and my dad are the same age — they are both 75. Yet somehow, my dad leaves this drab, mundane life where he literally does the same boring things every day that do not give him any joy. He eats the same foods, spends time on YouTube and the internet, and grumbles about prices going up, inflation, politics, and the works. He has no friends to socialize with, nor does he seem to care. He has zero curiosity about the world. He’s not really learning anything new or doing anything new. He has no desire to go anywhere or see anything different. He doesn’t even have the desire to come to New York to visit me, his only living child. And my mom, though she would want to travel, is held back because of my dad. She feels like she has to take care of him, as though he’s another child under her wing.

My former teacher and friend, on the other hand, lives the most fruitful, fun, and colorful life: she takes dance classes two days a week. She regularly does arts and crafts (scrapbooking, textiles, and painting), takes a watercoloring class, and has lots of friends who she is constantly meeting up with and traveling to visit. She is always “busy” in a positive way; she aims to be happy and fill her life with people and things and activities that bring her joy and spark her passion. She makes the most of her life, and she doesn’t let the fact that she’s 75 years old stop her. For her, age is a number, not an excuse to do or not do certain activities.

I always think that my parents could benefit to be around someone like this friend. If they were just a fraction of her, they’d be so much happier and more fulfilled. You’d never guess seeing or listening to her that she’s in the same age range as my parents. She is vibrant, full of life and zeal. It’s unfortunate that I can’t get my parents to see life in a more positive way like she does.

Random request for a job referral

In the three years I’ve been working at Udemy, I’ve referred about five people for roles. All have sadly been rejected. Two I personally knew and could vouch for, one was a friend’s friend, one was a former colleague’s former colleague, and one was a current customer’s acquaintance. My general thought about referrals is: I will only refer people that I can either vouch for, or if they are people I do not know, I can vouch for the person who is asking me to refer them. I think it should go without saying that if I don’t like you or think you’re terrible at your job, I will definitely not refer you.

So today, out of nowhere, I got a message from a former colleague at my last company. In the LinkedIn message, he says only this: Hi! Can you please refer me? And then he links the job posting for my company he’s interested in. No niceties. No asking how I am or feigning that he’s interested in my life since we worked at the same company. It’s not that I thought this guy wasn’t good at his job, but frankly, the memories I have of him are that… he’s a creep. He used to get really weird and flirtatious at all our company sales and success kickoff events with any woman he could get a little attention from. I still remember he used to always put his arms around my shoulders and waist when I’d get near him at events. And once, in a real attempt at going too far, he tried to put his hand under my shirt from behind while drunk. I didn’t make a big deal of it since I knew he was wasted, so I pushed him away and shrugged it off. But well, I still haven’t forgotten how gross he was, especially given that at that same time, his wife had recently just given birth to their first child.

So no, he’s not getting a referral from me. I have very little power in the industry I am in. So when I do have this little bit of say, I will use it when I think it’s right. Referrals are not a free-for-all just because you happen to know me and want an interview at the company I’m at. That’s not the way life works.