Monthly Archives: September 2024

Teaching children about their body and body parts

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When I was a kid, my parents always used baby words for my vagina/butt hole. They usually called my private parts down there “doo doo.” It was usually said in a funny or joking way. But they really did always use that word. Later on as a high school journalist for my school newspaper, I found out that the word “vagina” was banned from being said by any teacher, administrator, or school staff to K-12 kids in the San Francisco Unified School District. I had no idea why and could never confirm what the rationale was. And it made zero sense given SFUSD had a very progressive stance on comprehensive sex education. How do you teach sex education without saying the word “vagina”? I thought it was beyond absurd and just flat out stupid and wrong.

So since then, I’ve felt very strongly about using real words to describe… real body parts for any children I might have. There really shouldn’t be anything controversial or shocking about this stance. If you want your child to call their arm an arm, then why the hell would you not want them to call their penis a penis or vagina a vagina? What exactly do you presume you are “protecting” them from — knowledge or facts? What, ultimately, is the end goal here or desired outcome (here, I can think about work for a second)?

So for the last 10 or so months, during bath time, I’ve been teaching Kaia about all her body parts as we wash them, and the ones that are a bit more “advanced” for her age, like her eyebrows, her forehead, her chin, her shins, her calves, her heels, her thighs. We cover all the major areas. And I’ve also called her butt hole a butt hole or “anus,” and I tell her about her vagina. She has asked me if Daddy has a vagina. I always respond the same way: No, Daddy does not have a vagina. He has a penis. You have a vagina. No, you do not have a penis.

I texted Chris on Thursday to ask how things were going given I was gone Thursday-Friday. And this is how he responded:

“She spent part of the train ride down putting her hand up her shorts saying, “I am touching my vag” pretty loudly with a big smile on her face. Then putting same hand in her mouth. Your deviant child.”

So, I suppose I am getting what I wanted? She did call it the correct abbreviated name…

The tech layoffs cycle: a continuation of the “tech-polcalypse,” just closer to home this time

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Once upon a time, in the world that my mom once worked in, people expected to join the workforce and stay at a company for 20-30-plus years. Job security was just a given. Once they hit a certain number of years of employment, they were guaranteed a pension until the day they (or their potential spouse) died. Both my parents were employed by their respective employers for 20-plus years and now are lucky to collect a pension. That world is quite foreign to me, as since before I even entered the workforce full time, I never expected to get any pension at all; in fact, I was repeatedly told that I not only would never get any pension at any job in my lifetime (unless I chose the government route), but I’d even be unlikely to collect any Social Security payments once I turned age 65. How fun for me and my generation!

My mom never experienced endless cycles of layoffs at her company the way I have at all my employers since I started working full time at age 22. My dad did have occasional layoffs based on demand (he worked in the glazing trade), but those layoffs were always temporary, and he’d get his job back once the demand picked up. So when I reflect back on my first job out of college and how I got laid off during the 2008-2009 financial crisis after just nine months of full-time employment, I recall speaking to my dad within an hour of being terminated. I called my dad while sitting on a bench in Union Square here in New York to tell him I was unemployed. And the first words out of his mouth, after a long pause, were, “Well, are they going to hire you back later?” To this, I slowly responded, “I don’t think so, Daddy.”

The only “good” way of losing your job is if you voluntarily quit or leave for whatever is the next step in your life or career. There’s no “good” way of getting laid off or fired. I’ve long debated in my head whether the “rip the bandaid off” situation in the U.S. (which I consider pretty terrible, inhumane, and abrupt, because it IS) with layoffs is better than layoffs that happen in countries like Singapore or France, where the employees have more rights and need far advanced notice. Regardless of which way a layoff happens, it’s always demoralizing for those who are directly impacted and those who remain.

At my current company, we’ve had two layoffs in the entire history of the company’s existence. The first happened in February 2023, when about 10 percent of my colleagues were let go. Just yesterday, we had our second layoff (with a pending restructure), during which about 15% of my teammates were let go. It’s unclear how many people were impacted across the whole company. But it’s been a sad and stressful period even when I haven’t been directly impacted. It’s made me relive the misery of getting laid off in my two prior times. It’s just tiring to always expect a layoff to be right around the corner. It’s exhausting and mentally taxing to always wonder if your job is safe. The “tech-pocalypse” as people are calling it has been pretty terrible the last two years for those who work in the technology industry. Once upon a time, everyone wanted to work in tech, and now, it’s probably one of the worst industries to be in when trying to find your next role. The market is too saturated with those who are unemployed who are in need of jobs. And there probably are not enough roles for all of them. Is this going to be how it will always be during the remainder of my working life: always waiting for the next layoff to drop? This is why working for someone else will always suck, just as my dad always told me.

Boston: like a third home

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While New York is my current home and has been for the last 16-plus years, San Francisco will always be my hometown. The next place that would be on the list would be Boston. I went to school in the Boston area for four years. I commuted back and forth between New York and Boston for three years after I graduated from Wellesley for a long-distance relationship. At minimum, I was there one weekend every month in that three-year period between 2008-2011. So much is familiar to me in Boston, as during my school years, I remember spending a lot of time just walking everywhere in Somerville, Cambridge, and Boston, exploring random streets and seeing what all the little neighborhood quirks were. Looking back, I remember that it felt like I knew the city better than friends or former classmates who actually studied and lived in Boston and Cambridge because they spent so much of their time just on their own college campuses. I’ve always been a city person, so whenever I could and didn’t have a midterm, final, or major paper holding me back, I wanted to be in the city and escape the ‘burbs of Wellesley.

Once that long-distance relationship ended, I didn’t return to Boston again for another six years. Chris planned a long-weekend trip in spring 2017 to take his parents to Boston, so the four of us went and explored the city once again. Then, between 2017-2019, I’ve had at least 2-3 work trips a year to Boston. When I would take these trips, I’d always leave ample time for myself to wander around and explore, try new bars and restaurants, and also catch up with local friends/former classmates if they were available. Sometimes, I’d be reminded of things I did at certain restaurants, locations, or neighborhoods. I’d reminisce on fond memories I had with friends in different areas. Other times, I’d be rudely reminded of dumb things that were said or done on specific streets. That’s what Boston is for me: it’s full of lots of memories, the good, the bad, and the neutral, because I spent a good chunk of my late teens/early-to-mid twenties there. And every time I went back on a work trip, I’d debate whether I’d want to eat at an old haunt (assuming it was still around), or try something fun, new, and/or trendy.

The last time I was in Boston was July 2019. I came back today for a customer onsite meeting, and it hit me that it’s been just over five years since I was last here. I arrived early this morning, so I decided that since I needed to be near South Station by noon that I’d have breakfast in Chinatown. I went back to an old favorite dim sum house called Windsor Dim Sum Cafe, a small restaurant on the second floor, which made dim sum to order after you marked what you wanted on a little sheet of paper. Since it was just me, I ordered pork and preserved egg jook and a bowl of sweet soy milk. Both came out piping hot and were delicious, though oddly enough, I actually think they added a bit too much sugar to my fresh soy milk (I really never thought I’d say that. This must be my aging Asian taste buds talking…). I really enjoyed being the first guest to open the shop at 10am. I sat down and enjoyed my congee while slowly sipping my soy milk as some grandmother/father-aged guests came in. Two friends also came in who looked around my age. They must have had a break from work and/or parenthood because both were having a very intense discussion about breastfeeding, pumping and under-supply. I was almost tempted to join in, but refrained since I was enjoying my alone time quite a bit and really couldn’t be distracted from my own food and drink.

After nearly four hours this afternoon at my customer’s office, I then spent several hours wandering through multiple areas: the Seaport, Downtown Crossing/financial district, Chinatown, the Boston Commons and Public Gardens, and Back Bay. So much is the same and felt nostalgic, but much has also changed. Newbury Street had more “for lease” store fronts than I had imagined. I figured it would have been hit hard by the last several years, but didn’t think it would be this dismal. Newbury Street also has far more Asian businesses in the form of casual restaurants, bubble tea shops, and shaved ice/fancy nail shops than I’d ever seen before.

I was saddened to learn ahead of time that my favorite Chinese cake shop of all time, Eldo Cake House on Harrison, had shut down mid-2022, due to unfavorable lease renewal terms. I was never fond of any Asian cake growing up because I found them boring and flavorless, but Eldo completely changed my mind about this. In my college years, I purchased two large cakes from them for two different friends’ birthday parties/dinners. Every time I’d be in Chinatown, I’d stop and buy something from that shop because it was just so exceptional. On every single work trip to Boston between 2017-2019, I always made sure to drop into Eldo for at minimum, a single slice of their mixed fruit and whipped cream cake, even if it was completely out of the way. THAT was how damn good that cake was. It was truly special, one of a kind, with just the right amount of sweetness, the most fluffy and bouncy sponge cake, always super fresh fruit, and perfectly whipped (non-dairy) cream. I don’t know if I will ever have Chinese-style cake that is that perfect ever again. In addition, Gourmet Dumpling House, which was my favorite Boston Taiwanese/Chinese restaurant on Beach Street, has also closed down at a similar time that Eldo shuttered. The story is similar to Eldo with a pricey rent hike, but on the plus side, it looks like they have a second location that is still humming along and quite popular in Cambridge. A few new trendy-looking restaurants have opened in the Chinatown area. I remember trying one during a 2018 or 2019 work trip and being completely underwhelmed. Sometimes, it’s the old traditional stuff that is just more satisfying than what is trying too hard to be unique.

I had dinner tonight with a college friend I hadn’t seen since my last Boston visit in July 2019. We ate at Saltie Girl on Newbury Street and shared a huge, luxurious salad and two warm and decadent lobster rolls. It felt so good to see her after so long. We talked about and caught up on so many things over three-plus hours together. I’m still processing what we discussed and trying to remember it all. It just felt really nice to be reunited with an old friend after so long, and after we spent so much time in college together.

I used to be sad shortly after graduating from college to think that I only had two good friends that I left college with, plus a small handful of friends like this one who I loosely kept in touch with. Socially, I did not think Wellesley was a great place for me, even if academically, I was decently suited to it. In my twenties, I was envious of other people who seemingly had endless friends from college who would be their 10 bridesmaids or have epic 10-20-person girls trips annually. But now nearing 40, I realize that what I have is actually really great, and I am grateful for the connections I was able to make and continue to keep. I have people from college who I can reunite with after years of not seeing or speaking with in depth, with maybe the occasional text or Instagram message, and it feels like meeting up with family again. They feel familiar, you feel familiar, and everything just feels comfortable. There’s no reason to front or posture over how great or perfect our lives are (because God knows all our lives are pretty imperfect and full of annoyances and tribulations). We just say what we think even if it sounds stupid, and we discuss it. There’s really no right or wrong answer when it comes to your thoughts.

Or, maybe that’s what approaching middle aged status means: being comfortable in our own skin, not giving a fuck what other people think (or, less than our younger years, relatively speaking), and well, being extremely cognizant of our own imperfections, our aging, and ultimately our mortality.

“Take good care of Kaia”

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I can’t remember how long it was after Ed died, but I remember being in a room just with my mom in San Francisco, and she murmured about him and finally admitted some level of regret or remorse about how she treated him when he was alive. I remember her voice quieted down, and she said, “I didn’t take good enough care of him. I should have. I didn’t take good enough care of him. I should have taken better care of him.” And she left it at that. I was pretty silent. And she was, too, after she said, that. And moments later, she changed the topic. I didn’t say much in response because… what was I supposed to say? There would have been nothing I could have said to make her feel better. Plus, to be frank, I agreed with her: No, she and my dad did not take good enough care of their son. They did not treat him well. That’s a very succinct summary of how their relationship was.

On the day before and the day we left San Francisco last month, I remember my mom taking a lighter tone and voice with me and saying repeatedly, “Take good care of Kaia.” She also said, “She’s all you have. Take very, very good care of Kaia. Don’t forget.” And while I know she was trying to be loving and caring when she said this to me, something about it just felt eerie, as though her message to me was echoing what she had said just years ago about not taking “good enough care” of her own son. It wasn’t what she said; it was her tone and how it felt like the same message she told herself about Ed. But instead here, she was directing it to me about my own daughter, her granddaughter, and warning me that if I didn’t take “good enough care” of my own daughter, that my own daughter would fall into a depression and want or attempt to end her own life.

That felt jarring to me. Kaia is turning three this December. She’s my sweet baby, even if she’s no longer really a baby anymore. She will always be my baby. I’m trying my very best to keep her safe, healthy, and happy. I want nothing more than to be her safe space for life. I want that as her mother, but I also want it because Ed and I never had that with our parents, and I want to do everything in my power to do good by Ed’s memory and give Kaia the love and support he never had. I am trying my very best. The thought of Kaia Pookie falling into a depression is enough to kill me. But we can control only what we can control, and I’m not going to obsess or worry about what is not present.

Dry oil for skin

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About 12-14 years ago, oils became quite en vogue as part of one’s skincare regimen here in the U.S. Argan oil became extremely popular, as did coconut oil and different forms of olive oil. Endless other oils that are not from food we eat have also become more mainstream, such as jojoba, rosehip, marula, squalane, and seabuckthorn. While I was initially wary of it, especially given that for so long, we were told by endless sources that oils would clog our pores, I ended up embracing oil on my face and really enjoying it. A drop or two can go a long way, and so I oftentimes take a small amount and rub it into my skin before bed before my moisturizer, or I will mix a few drops into my daytime moisturizer when getting ready for the day. As I’ve gotten older, my skin has definitely gotten dryer in some parts, and so I’ve had to find better sources for moisturizing to prevent dryness, especially in the winter time. I don’t really have a loyalty to any one type of face oil now, but I do like trying new things, hence my skincare junkie side that I don’t have many opportunities to discuss with a willing audience.

About a month ago, I was perusing the body/face care section of Trader Joe’s, and I noticed a lemongrass coconut body oil on the shelf. It’s mixed with lemongrass, coconut, almond, jojoba, and olive oils. The description said it would dry quickly, so I thought I would give it a shot. After my morning workout and shower, I rubbed it into my arms, chest, and legs for the first time, and I was actually really surprised at how quickly my skin absorbed the oil. It was so quick to rub in, and once I was about to put clothes on, the oil feeling was not detectable at all. But my skin looked and felt moisturized. And my skin continued to look and feel moisturized the rest of the day; the oil really was locking in the moisture after my shower. The feeling and process of rubbing body oil onto my skin after a shower seemed so much more luxurious (and quick!) than rubbing in regular lotion. I could get used to doing this as part of my morning routine.

I think this is also part of getting older: appreciating all these little experiences that previously seemed gross, excessive, or inconsequential when I was in my 20s, but now are truly like little everyday indulgences. Dry body oil and high quality, scented candles are definitely in this category of little luxuries. And while I do not necessarily love the strong lemongrass smell (as my friend says, “I like to eat lemongrass, not smell like it”), it does fade very quickly, and it also has the added bonus of being a natural mosquito repellent!

The dramatic bursts of aging at ages 44 and 60

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In the last several weeks, the study that cites that human beings age dramatically at 44, then at 60, has been making the rounds. My friend sent me this article a few weeks ago. He’s 46 now, but he told me that he really felt it at age 44 two years ago, right around the time that his now 2-year-old daughter was born. He said he thought that it was just because of being a new dad and having a newborn, which meant worse sleep and higher fatigue, but this study said everything to him.

“Get ready for it,” he’s warned me. He said he’s already been warning his wife, who turns 44 next year, about this change.

But I take his “warning” with a grain of salt since he’s not the healthiest person in both diet or movement. He only had maybe a one-year period (during the pandemic) when he actively worked out (swimming three times a week) and ate more mindfully.

The truth is that none of this news really bothers me. While we are younger and healthy, we can adjust our lifestyles to be more healthy and active. The best thing any of us can do is prevention and health maintenance in the here and now. That means exercising regularly, eating relatively healthy, and trying our best to get adequate sleep. On top of that, it means getting routine health checks, dental cleanings, and all the other riveting “health maintenance” activities we’re supposed to be doing to take care of our bodies. As the Peter Attia Outlive book says, if there’s one thing we can do to increase our longevity, it’s to move and be active; exercise! Even if genetics or luck play a role in all this, exercise can never, ever hurt. I always feel different during the day if I haven’t exercised in the morning. My mind feels less alert, and my body just feels more sluggish without morning exercise.

All of us are aging. There is no doubt about that, and there is no way to prevent that. As the last couple years have gone on, I’ve noticed more expression lines on my face, more sun spots (the bane of my current existence), and less elasticity of my skin overall. I suppose all these are signs of “maturing.” The number of white hairs on my head has also multiplied. I’ve just accepted it as part of life’s progression. I’ve tried to do things like re-apply sunblock more, obsessively put on a hat to cover my face, and seek shade when possible during sunny days. When having my highlights redone, I’ll ask my hair stylist to color my whites. But really, no one wants to stay stuck in time forever. No one wants to be a single age forever. So in the meantime, I’ll do my best to eat more fresh food and whole grains, exercise rigorously and regularly, stretch, sleep adequately, and not worry about what is out of my control.

When the mundane and everyday are funny

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I say this all the time, but one of the absolute best things about New York City is that there are endless things to do here, and so it never gets boring. Part of the reason there are endless things to do here is that people are constantly coming, whether it’s family and friends visiting, tourists or huge musical acts, stand-up comedians, and everything and anything related to entertainment. Chances are high that if you are in entertainment in some form, you will be coming to New York at some point, if not often.

Last night, we went to see the Taiwanese-American comedian Sheng Wang at Town Hall. We originally saw him open one of Ali Wong’s shows a couple years ago, and since then, we’ve been following him on social media. I still remember when I was in middle/high school and how I never really thought I’d see Asians in entertainment in the western world in my lifetime. And thankfully, how wrong I was! Sheng Wang is extremely down-to-earth. He’s like the guy who is super smart in the room but tries to hide it from everyone by acting meek. He is most definitely laugh-out-loud funny and about the most seemingly mundane things: lack of “ambiance” as a priority in the immigrant household, young kids making you go broke because of how much they love and inhale all your berries (read: the expensive fruit with all the antioxidants… you just know you are not supposed to like “oxidants”), a Black and Decker toaster oven vs. a Breville oven. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that the funniest comedians can do just that: take the boring and mundane things in life and make you laugh until you cry, just by seeing them from another perspective, one that isn’t usually talked about or explored in depth.

I’m so happy that Kaia will grow up seeing Asians in mainstream media in the West. It’s a very different childhood she will have from the one I had, in more ways than one.

Rise and shine: The poop explosion all over the bed

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Since the night we returned from our Ottawa/Montreal trip, Kaia had not pooped. She seemingly is holding her poops in for as long as possible until she can no longer stand it. This seems to last anywhere from 3-5 days. At that point, she then starts leaving skid marks in her shorts, which we then have to scrub clean and launder. And we have to force her to sit on the little potty until she lets all the poop go.

So when I picked her up at school yesterday, I noticed immediately when she came out the door that she had a different pair of shorts on. The teacher told me that yes, she did have some poop accidents, and they had to change her shorts three times (using all the spare shorts I had packed as backup). We had to coax her to poop last night after we came home, and while she did let it go into her little potty, we had a strong hunch that she still had more to come. But she seemed relieved after that poop, so we let her go to sleep in her pull-up. Kaia managed to fall asleep fairly quickly, and surprisingly, she never came to our bed at all throughout the night. I woke up just after 6am to look at the video monitor and find that she was still sound asleep in her bed. I felt a bit suspicious, so I went over to the room to check up on her (and well, to sniff her head).

As soon as I opened the door, I realized what had happened just from the strong, foul odor that hit my nose immediately: SHE POOPED IN HER SLEEP. Given how fresh the poop was on the blanket, I figured that the poop had occurred at some point in the previous few hours. It was like a mini explosion!

While her pull-up was filled with poop, she had also gotten poop all over the back of her legs, her blanket, and the playmat (which Chris strategically had placed over her bed so that we wouldn’t need to do extra laundry during this potty training phase). I immediately yelped and told Chris that we had to do a massive cleanup ASAP. Pookster seemed sound asleep, but we had to wake her to clean her up. I wiped off as much crusted poop off her legs as possible and off the blanket. I undressed her and found that not only was her bottom half covered in poop, but the bottom of her pajama top was soaked in urine. Once she was awake, I got her to stand in the bathtub so I could hose her down and given her a quick scrub and shower. While I took care of cleaning her, Chris took care of cleaning the bed and all the laundry. Then, once Pookster was cleaned up, I had to take care of scrubbing the bathtub clean of any fecal matter residue.

I think it goes without saying that this was completely disgusting and hideous to deal with. The first big whiff of anything you want in the morning is most certainly NOT your child’s shit. Nor does anyone want to do any deep cleaning or scrubbing of anything at the crack of dawn. But alas, here we are, into week six of potty training, and we have finally had a real poop explosion during this season of our lives! Kaia never tires of keeping her parents on their toes.

“Aren’t you glad I put this play mat on the bed?” Chris remarked as he wiped the mat clean. “This could have been a bigger mess to clean up if it hadn’t been for my ingenius idea!”

Letting your child be and relinquishing control (of what they eat)

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During almost the entire period we had a nanny when Kaia had solids, so from about age 6 months to 16 months, I rarely let the nanny prepare her food. I always prepared her food — breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks, and I would have it laid out on Kaia’s silicone dish exactly the way I wanted. The vegetables would be cut a certain way, the protein prepared very specifically, the soup laid out just so. I didn’t feel like I could give instructions to my nanny and trust that she’d actually follow them. I knew she wasn’t since in the beginning, she would mash up food that I wanted Kaia to hold and eat. I’d catch this when I was between meetings and taking bathroom breaks. And from that point onward, the trust was pretty much gone.

But as Kaia gets older, and as more caregivers at school are involved, I realize that I have to let go of a lot of things that I used to be really anal about. Once she started daycare, I couldn’t always control what order she’d have her food in or how warm it was. I couldn’t prevent her from seeing other kids having cinnamon raisin toast or goldfish crackers and not wanting them herself. So after a while, I just stopped thinking about it and insisted to myself she’d be fine; it’s all about balance, right, and a little sugar here or a processed piece of goldfish won’t hurt her?

And now that she’s in a publicly funded 3K class, where all food is included, I am no longer making the majority of her meals while she’s at this school. With her 8:30-2:50 class and afterschool program, she gets three full meals (breakfast, lunch, early supper at 4pm) and a snack. The meals are all prepared and cooked onsite. The menu is a pretty good mix of multiple cultures, has a range of different fruit and vegetables, and incorporates lots of whole grains and whole wheat when applicable. I don’t necessarily love that ham is on the menu once a week, since ham is cured and thus processed, but again, I have told myself I have to stop nitpicking and just let some things go. So while I was a little reluctant to have her opt in, I realized I also didn’t want her to be the odd kid having home lunch when all the other kids were having school lunch. As she gets older, she’s going to be more influenced by that and general peer pressure. Plus for me, that means I have to think less about what to make that would be easily transportable and eaten at school in a lunch box. I don’t have to think about what healthy snacks to pack her. It’s one less item on our mental load. And that’s definitely a plus. In her backpack now, all I have to pack is extra changes of clothing, her water bottle, and silicone bib.

She still has a dinner with us once she comes home. I make sure she gets all her usual vegetables, exposure to what we’re eating, and fruit she likely won’t get at school (I highly doubt they are going to serve her peeled and pitted fresh longan or freshly cut pineapple…). The last two days, she’s eaten very healthy portions of the veggies I’ve made, and she’s also eaten more fruit after dinner. My hope, though, is that she won’t lose her taste for home food and that she still loves mummy’s food the most.

First day of 3K: Chaos and lack of information

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It was Kaia’s first day at her new school for 3K today. We had to wake her up a bit earlier to get her ready — light breakfast, changed, teeth brushed, hair done, sunscreen on. After taking some quick first day of school pictures, Chris was able to get Kaia out the door by 7:50. They made it to the front door of the school by 8:20 and waited to be admitted.

It was a bit chaotic. One of the administrators came out to take all the school supplies from the parents. We were told we’d get access to a Google site and Remind app. I emailed the admins about some information about Kaia (e.g. potty training status, silicone bib for meals, afterschool care payment/receipt). I never got a response. It’s 9pm after school has ended, and we still have no email or ETA on when we’re getting access to either.

At pickup, I rang the bell and after a teacher came out to greet me and told me she’d get Kaia ready, I waited outside the locked door for another 10-plus minutes before she came out with Kaia. The teacher’s assistant said she spoke Chinese and English to the kids. This made me wary: how much Chinese are they are really getting if the second teacher speaks both to the kids??

The admin came back from what I think was an errand, and she let me know how Kaia’s day was. She ate well, played well, made one new friend, and did not nap at all. The admin told me about the carbs she ate, but didn’t give specifics about fruit, protein, etc. I had to ask separately about supper, which is served for the afterschool program kids. I wasn’t told what they learned today. The admin then clarified that the second (Mandarin) teacher was actually another teacher, not the TA I just met. The Mandarin teacher just had to leave early today, so the admin was stepping in for the Mandarin teacher to lead the afterschool program activities.

I thought Kaia would be really happy to see me at pickup, but this was not the case. The funny thing was: when Kaia came out the front door, she didn’t seem excited or happy to see me. She looked more stunned or shocked. But when I kneeled down to hug her, she immediately hugged me and grabbed me, trying to climb on me so that I’d hold her. She clearly missed us.

I hope this is just a rough patch in the beginning of the school year and that these mishaps are not indicative of what the rest of the year is going to be like.