Monthly Archives: September 2025

Play date at the Brooklyn Children’s Museum

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Today, I took Kaia out to Brooklyn for lunch with a former classmate at her school plus her mom, then the Brooklyn Children’s Museum (on my Culture Pass, which got all of us in for free!). Kaia was so upset when a lot of her old classmates did not show up this school year, and it was hard to explain to her that many had moved onto different schools because they were a year older and thus starting kindergarten. This classmate was one of them. She even identified this classmate, Eliza, by name, and said she wanted to see her again. Luckily, Eliza’s mom was very friendly over the last school year, and we exchanged numbers before Eliza started kindergarten. We organized this play date a few weeks ago, so Kaia was eagerly awaiting this day for weeks now.

I knew Pookster was very excited about seeing Eliza again because on the entire train ride to the restaurant, she didn’t want any snacks at all. She simply kept looking out the window, saying over and over that she was waiting to see her friend Eliza in Brooklyn. And when we finally did meet with them, they both shrieked each other’s names over and over, jumped up and down, danced, and kept hugging each other and holding each other’s hands.

It was one of those moments as a mother that I could almost physically feel my heart swelling to witness these two girls get so excited and be singing with joy that they were reunited. I was so happy to witness their joy that I didn’t even remember to record it. But at least I have a couple photos of the tail end to document this love.

Over lunch, Eliza’s mom and I talked about how hard it was, annoyingly, to make friends and do play dates with other parents in this city. She is a New York native, born, raised, and still living in Manhattan, and she herself admits it’s been a struggle to make other parent friends and arrange play dates for her daughter. I always wondered if it was just a New York City thing since my friends in other cities out in Long Island, in San Francisco, and Boston have said they haven’t encountered the same challenges. In general, people are just “weird,” she said.

Eliza and her mom are nice, and while Eliza and Kaia get along, I also get along with Eliza’s mom. So I hope we can do more play dates in the future. It’s always nice to have other nearby mom friends who have kids of a similar age.

The clothes I forgot about post-childbirth and a reawakening

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When we moved to our current two-bed, two-bathroom unit from our one-bed, one-bath unit downstairs when I was pregnant, Chris got a bunch of large, deep plastic bins to make our move a bit easier. Since we moved, I have (very inefficiently and messily…) used these to store some of my clothes and Kaia’s bedding/miscellaneous cloth items. In one of the bins is a lot of my warmer weather clothing, including about four above-knee skirts that I would wear relatively frequently pre 2021. Once I had a child, though, I kind of forgot about the existence of these skirts, far preferring single-piece dresses, longer skirts for more coverage, and looser shorts. These were all more comfortable, and after you have a child, comfort is obviously key. I took a look at the bin this morning and thought, hmmmm. I am turning 40 in just a few months. I cannot not wear all these nice skirts that still fit me (plus, while I do not remember what they cost, I’m sure none of them were that cheap!). I still have to look at least decent in them, right? I exercise six days a week; I still have legs, don’t I?!

So I tried one of them on this morning to see if it still fit. Yes, it still did, and it still looked good on me. I decided in that moment that I could not give up on these skirts (or really, my body, for that matter) and give them away. I had to maximize the ROI of these skirts by wearing them as much as possible before I actually become old and wrinkly. And so, I wore one of them today proudly. Granted, I did not immensely enjoy running around a playground with this bright orange mini skirt on, or going down multiple slides wearing this skirt, but I figured that was a small price to pay for getting more wear out of clothes I have already invested money in.

I might be turning officially middle aged in January, but I still have a decent body. And I suppose I should still flaunt it while I still have it — that is what confidence looks like!

“Focus on what we can control and influence”

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Participating in the workforce and working for someone else is probably one of the most frustrating, infuriating, and annoying roller coasters a person can ever experience. And a lot of the time, I wonder if it’s all even really worth it. My dad always told me that the best thing you can do is to work for yourself because then, you don’t have to answer to anyone else. While it can be liberating to not have to answer to anyone, that also comes with immense pressure and responsibility that not all of us can handle… and not all of us frankly have the skill and ability to do. When he used to say this, especially after I became an adult, graduated from college, and entered the workforce, I always thought, but never said out loud to him, that I actually admired that he was skilled enough to make this leap for himself… because I don’t think I was ever brave (or creative or skilled) enough to do this for myself.

I was supposed to have a relatively relaxing day at the coworking space today. I originally had two meetings on my calendar and blocked off some time to work on some slides. And then suddenly, I got some bad news that came crashing down, and it was all hands on deck trying to figure out how to remedy a customer situation. I could not even believe how frustrated and angry I got, and I was even more pissed that this had to happen on a Friday at midday. A few colleagues and I were ranting about it, and everyone kept on repeating the same thing to try to ground ourselves: “focus on what we can control and influence.”

So much of what happens at work, with colleagues, customers, projects, data — is out of our control. We try to create narratives that this deal or opportunity happened because I did x, y, and z, and that person did a, b, and c. But chance and luck are very much in there as invisible drivers. People don’t like to openly acknowledge that, though, because unfortunately, we cannot replicate or quantify chance or luck. So in times like this, I just want to escape and do things that help me mentally escape. Tonight, I ended up double boiling and heat aerating a pot of chai. I added extra ginger because I figured I could use the extra spice. I find the process of making chai very meditative, and I can attribute that to watching many “chai meditation” Instagram Stories that Sunny from The Chai Box records every single morning. I used to watch her chai double boiling and meditation almost every morning when I was on maternity leave, and I always looked forward to it. And now, I still do it when I want a little mini escape.

Work can really suck. But chai meditation always helps.

The Nutcracker ballet – Almost 35 years later

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I have always loved Christmas and pretty much everything associated with it. When I was 5, my mom and aunt took me to the San Francisco ballet to see The Nutcracker. I was so excited since I loved ballet, but I got sick halfway through the show and had to leave early. I still remember being so upset that I got sick, as I had been looking forward to watching the Nutcracker for what then felt like a very long time. When I moved in New York in 2008, I knew that at some point, I wanted to try to see The Nutcracker again, but this time at the New York City Ballet. Each year as autumn rolled around the corner, I’d occasionally check the official site. But by the time I’d check, all the good seats would be taken. Mostly nose-bleed seats would be left, and they’d be astronomically expensive, around $200-300++ expensive just for the opportunity to squint and barely see anything on the stage. I never thought it was worth it, though each year, I’d still have my hopes up and just cross my fingers that I’d get lucky. I especially wanted to see The Nutcracker in 2021 when I was pregnant with Kaia Pookie, but when I looked at the show dates (all starting right after Thanksgiving), I thought it would be cutting it way too close to my due date, which was December 14; there was zero chance I’d spend $200+ on ballet and risk never even seeing the show because I went into early labor.

Then a couple days ago, I got an email from the New York City Ballet stating that they were offering early access discounted tickets for MasterCard holders for this year’s The Nutcracker performance. I immediately clicked in to see what was available and what the pricing would be, and I was shocked to see that this truly was “early access.” Almost the entire orchestra level was available, and you could get seats in this section for as low as $219 (this is almost unheard of in over 17 years of living here!!). I immediately went through my mental list of local friends to see who might want to come (and pay) with me. And I remembered I have one friend who said that if the tickets were in the $200ish range, she’d be willing to come. So I confirmed dates/times with her, and I went to the box office today to buy the tickets. And I was able to get them! I was so shocked that this actually worked out just as planned, and the optimal seats were still available. We’re seated in the second row of orchestra. With these tickets in hand, along with The Met Opera tickets I’d also purchased in the same Lincoln Center visit today, I felt rich! I couldn’t believe how lucky I had gotten — all in the same day!

Yes, it was a lot to blow on live performances in a single day, on two theater shows. But alas, I’m turning 40 in January (that’s going to be my excuse for pretty much everything semi-indulgent I do from now until probably next June), so I’m allowed to indulge and live life! I’ve survived this long and thrived for most of that time, so I think I deserve this fun!

Perks of being “young”: cheaper access to theater and the arts, including the Met Opera

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In the many years pre-Kaia, Chris and I took advantage of a lot of inexpensive ticket offers at theaters across New York City. So many extremely affordable to downright cheap offers exist for those who are under the age cutoffs of 40, 35, and 30. First, Chris took advantage of them. Then, when he aged out of the cutoffs, he had me go buy the tickets for us. We’d get highly sought after seats at popular shows for next to nothing. During all that time, though, somehow I had forgotten about how I wanted to take advantage of the Under 40 Met offer, which is deeply discounted tickets for those under 40 (limit of two tickets) to see opera performances at the very famous Met Opera. When we think of the opera, we typically think of very old White people attending in their fanciest clothing. But as those people are eventually dying out, the arts scene needs younger people to fill those seats in (and pay those exorbitant ticket prices). To this day, I have still never seen any opera. So I wanted to do this just once to see how I might enjoy it.

A friend of mine who is over 40 told me she always meant to take advantage of the Under 40 tickets, but she had forgotten and alas, aged out. So she suggested I take advantage of it. I told her that I could actually get the tickets for both of us — we just had to agree on the show and a date, and I could even walk over to the box office to avoid the extra convenience surcharges. So we agreed to get tickets to Madama Butterfly in early January. I went to the box office this afternoon and asked for the Under 40 ticket pricing. And surprisingly, the agent gave me the paper tickets right away. I got confused since the policy online said they’d check my ID at Will-Call to ensure I was actually under 40. So I asked her about this.

“Oh, no. We don’t do that,” the agent said, laughing. “We actually are supposed to check your ID for your age when you purchase the tickets at the box office. But I took one look at you and thought, there’s no way this woman is over 40, so I believe you’re being honest!”

I laughed, thanked her, and went on my merry way. I’m finally taking advantage of the Under 40 Met tickets… for a show that is less than ten days before I actually turn 40. I told my friend about this encounter, and she told me that I could likely pull off being “under 40” for these discounted Met tickets for years and years to come!

Questions about mother’s milk, boobies, and what kind of milk comes out of a mother’s breasts

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In the last few weeks, Kaia has been thinking a lot about babies eating, feeding on mother’s breasts, and what she ate when she herself was a baby. This was all prompted last month when Chris’s cousin was visiting with her four-month-old baby, who is breastfed via her mother’s breasts. After an initially difficult road learning to feed, this little baby feeds on the boob like there’s no tomorrow. When she eats, Chris’s cousin said, everyone can hear her sucking and slurping away!

When the baby would feed, occasionally Kaia would come over and watch. Other times, she’d watch from a nice distance and comment to Chris or me that the “baby is eating.” Since then, she’s had all kinds of questions about how she ate when she was a baby.

“MAMA! When I was a baby, did I eat from your boobie?” Kaia asked.

“Sort of,” I responded honestly. “Sometimes you ate from mama’s boobies, and most other times you had mama’s milk out of a bottle because mama had to pump milk for you… because you had a weak suck!”

“I had milk from your boobies here?” Pookster replied, pointing at my breasts. “My mama’s big boobies!”

“Yes, you had milk from my boobies here,” I said back, smiling.

“Mama! Can I have some milk now?” Kaia said eagerly. And then without even waiting, she tried to pull down my shirt, get into my breast, and chew my nipple. Luckily, I had fast reflexes and prevented this from happening. And then alas, a tantrum erupted.

“I WANT BOOBIE MILK!” she yelled, demanding that she get breast milk that instant. I told her that there was no more boobie milk, that the boobie milk was there only when she was a baby. And now that she’s a big girl, her mama is all dried up (yes, really).

And just yesterday, she started caressing my chest while we were lying down before bedtime, and she asked, “Mama! Your boobies had milk when I was a baby? Was it cow or oat milk?”

I cracked up at this. “Kaia! It’s mama’s breast milk. It’s mama’s milk, mommy’s milk, mumma’s milk just for Kaia! No cow, no oat! Mama milk!” I responded, laughing.

“But if it’s not cow or oat, then what is it?” Kaia said back, clearly very confused. All she has known during her speaking life is cow or oat milk. And even though she’s had soy milk (fresh) and maybe some almond milk, those types don’t really mean anything to her.

And these are the toddler conversations I love and hope to remember always.

Love, presence, and attention

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A few months ago when reading about child rearing and stopping intergenerational trauma, I read a single line that stayed with me, and I ended up writing it down to remember. “Kids just want love, presence, and attention.” It seems simple and straightforward enough, but given that the expectations of parenting, child-rearing, and well, living. have gone up, what can seem simple on paper can be challenging to execute in real life. With social media, work at all hours, and addictions to phones/devices, simply giving your child undivided attention and your “presence” may be a big, big ask.

Kaia, in her increasing verbal and communicative abilities, has made requests for things she wants, and we try to deliver them, within reason. Most Sundays when we have no plans the last several months (and when swimming class has been cancelled given our nearby pool has been closed for maintenance), I’ve taken her up to our building pool so that she can play in the water while wearing her puddle jumper/floatie. She also loves to ask for hugs and cuddles. Last night when I got up at around 11:15pm to wake her for a dream-pee, she actually already woke up to come find me. As soon as I came out of the bedroom, I saw her standing there looking straight at me, as though anticipating my coming out. She held her arms open and ran into me. Then, I picked her up, kissed her, and carried her into her bathroom so she could have her first of her two nightly dream-pee sessions. After she was done, we wiped and flushed, and I carried her back to her bed to tuck her in. She hugged me again and turned to her side to sleep.

I don’t know why, but in that moment, I just felt really loved… and needed. She needed mama’s love, presence, and attention in that moment, and I came to give it to her. I think that if anything, being a parent definitely gives a sense of purpose, of meaning, that nothing else can really compare to it. When you become a parent, you are 100 percent in charge of ensuring that this little blob of a being is taken care of, fed, sheltered, and loved. I love going to sleep at night and waking up in the morning knowing she is excited to see me, wants my kisses and cuddles, and needs me. It’s a really amazing feeling to be both loved and needed. And I love that she shows her affection with zero abandon.

On the flip side, I also feel sad because when I think of a child’s need for “love, attention, and presence,” I don’t think Ed got much of that with either of our parents. Our dad rarely gave us attention or any real presence growing up. Our mom spent more time yelling at us for things we didn’t do properly and definitely hit and smacked Ed way more than he probably needed to be. And with “love,” well, “love” can be shown in a lot of ways, but I also get the feeling that our mom didn’t give as much affection to Ed as she did with me, and our dad, to this day, doesn’t know what the word “affection” means. I’ve come to accept my parents and how they raised me overall; I’ve made peace with the fact that they did some things right, some things okay, and a lot of things wrong. But I don’t think I’ve come to terms with how they were with Ed. Though with this piece, I think the only way I will truly accept it is by trying to give Kaia all the things I think Ed was deprived of. So every day, I try to give Pookster my love, attention, and presence, and hope that it all works out… and that hopefully one day, she will look back at her childhood and think it was a truly happy, loving one, where she was seen, cared for, and deeply loved.

The little train playground and the power of Kaia’s memory

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After a morning of roof time, a flu vaccine, and puddle jumper in the pool “swimming,” Kaia ate lunch, and I asked if she wanted to go to the little train playground in Riverside Park. She said she did, so I gathered her things and brought her to the playground. When we got there, she immediately asked if her friend Camille would be there. I was stunned; she played with a little friend named Camille in early June, which was the last time we came to this playground. I befriended her mom, and we exchanged numbers to potentially arrange future play dates.

I texted Camille’s mom to see if they were in the area, but unfortunately, her baby was napping. So she said they wouldn’t be able to come out until 4:30-5, which was the time I was planning to leave to get dinner ready. I told Kaia that she wouldn’t be able to see Camille today, and though she was sad, she moved onto other play structures. Because of Camille’s mom’s message, we went down closer to Pier I to see what kid festivities there were, and lucky for Kaia, there were two bouncy slides and a bouncy castle waiting for her! Nothing gets her more excited than bouncy structures! When I found out that it was free entry and not a private event (just to be sure), she immediately took off her sandals, handed them to me, and got in line for the castle. She ended up spending more time on the bouncy slide since it didn’t have a time limit like the castle. It was a far more eventful afternoon for Kaia at Riverside Park than I had originally imagined!

I was happy to let Kaia take part in all the kid fun, but I think what really shocked me was the power of her memory at such a young age. We’re already halfway through September, yet she still remembered the name of a kid she met and played with just once over three months ago at this same playground. Every time I hear people talk about toddlers as though they’re unintelligent, babbling, nonsensical beings, I always feel a bit defensive inside because I know exactly how quickly they learn and absorb new things, and how intelligent they really are — all by observing and interacting with my own Kaia Pookie.

Body weight, fat, muscle, and overall health tracking

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Ever since I weaned off breastfeeding over 2.5 years ago now, I still cannot get rid of this excess lower belly fat. It’s annoying, and though no one else really notices it, I always notice and feel it when I put on clothes and when I look at myself in the mirror. I’ve never thought of myself as a vain person, but I really, really dislike this. It doesn’t seem to matter how much I exercise or what ab exercises I do (YES, I am aware spot training doesn’t work), but it won’t go away. I was telling a friend of mine about this who has had two kids, and she feels the same and says she has the same issue. She also said she wonders that given we both exercise a lot and eat decently, that maybe it could just be excess skin?

Haha, there’s zero chance that is the case. If only it was excess skin and not real FAT.

I was chatting with my other friend about this, who has taken pretty much every health test written about that’s not covered by American health insurance, things like the DEXA scan, VO2 Max test, amongst other heart/oxygen/blood sugar related tests. She was urging me to get a DEXA scan to see what my muscle/fat ratio was, as that could help me pinpoint what I needed to change about my diet and/or exercise regimen. Although the DEXA scan does intrigue me, the idea of drastically changing my diet did not sit well with me. I eat mostly whole foods 99 percent of the time. I am intentional about eating lots of fruit, vegetables, and varying up my protein sources; I try to make some type of plant-based protein (beans!) every week. I almost never eat ultra highly processed, packaged foods. I barely even drink alcohol anymore (excess sugar/carbs that I don’t absolutely love). I told all this to my friend. But she chuckled and said, “Yeah, but it’s hard for a foodie to make big changes to their diet. I mean, CARBS. We love our carbs.”

We were just wandering and eating through Arthur Avenue in the Bronx today. I picked up two pounds of fresh pasta noodles, a box of pumpkin-porcini ravioli (frozen for future), a bag of dried Malfalda pasta imported from Italy. I got a pound of fresh buccacini mozzarella from my beloved Casa Del Mozzarella. We also got two loaves of bread from our favorite Italian bakery up there, Madonia Bakery, plus two pounds of Italian sausage from our favorite meat shop, Calabria Pork Store (with its famous sausage chandelier all along its ceiling!). And I thought about all these carbs (evil foods!) I brought back and grumbled; I can’t not have these delicious things in my life! You can’t take them away from me! You cannot!

My friend reminded me that we’re nearing 40… me sooner than her by two years. “Things have to change, even if just a little.”

Cooking for my new mama friend in Staten Island

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When my best friend told me she was pregnant earlier this year, I told her that after she gave birth, I would come over to cook for her. She expressed interest in all the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) foods, the Chinese postpartum confinement meals, and I immediately got excited, thinking that I could come cook these things for her. When I gave birth and was recovering, I didn’t have anyone come cook for me. At that time, there was another COVID outbreak. My mom didn’t want to travel, and my aunt apologized to me multiple times for not being there to take care of me and cook for me, even though she’s not even my mother and not even my blood-related aunt. What my aunt did do, which I am still grateful for to this day, is she went out and bought and labeled all the ingredients for the Chinese chicken wine soup (ji jiu tang) she would have made for me. She bought the ingredients in quantities so large that I’d just run out of most of them just recently. She sent me instructions for how to make the soup. And since then I’ve made it a number of times and love it; it doesn’t even matter if you’re recovering from childbirth or not, but the soup itself is so soothing and comforting. It’s like a Chinese hug in a bowl. As I made this soup numerous times, I thought to myself — I’d love to make these types of dishes for a postpartum friend so that they can also have a hug in multiple bowls.

So, after taking a regular subway train, an express bus (for the first time ever — and I also just learned it’s not covered by my OMNY card; I had to pay $7 extra just to board this damn bus!), and then a quick $15 Uber ride, I was at my friend’s house in Staten Island. I had prepped a number of things leading up to this day to streamline cooking at her place. In her kitchen, I quickly made myself at home and made these dishes: multigrain congee (purple long grain rice, brown long grain jasmine, white short grain, and yellow mung beans, sweetened with a hint of rock sugar and flavored with a touch of ginger), pork rib and fig soup, braised “eggs hugging tofu” (jidan bao doufu), dang shen herbal tea, and hawthorn berry, longan, and cinnamon herbal tea. Yesterday night, I made stir-fried water spinach/morning glory/ong choy/kong xin cai with shrimp paste and packed it in a glassware. I also made a batch of lactation cookies with galactagogues; after my own breastfeeding journey, I honestly don’t believe in “galactagogues,” but who is going to say no to cookies?! I used the same recipe I used for myself that has oats, flaxseed, butter, coconut oil, and 70 percent Valrhona chocolate feves; this time I didn’t have brewer’s yeast, but I did throw in a handful of sliced almonds for extra protein. In Chinatown, I also picked up some “spongies,” or “paper wrapped sponge cakes” for her since I know she likes them.

It was a pain in the ass to get to her house in Staten Island to say the least. Her fiance had the stomach flu, so he wasn’t able to pick me up or drop me off at the ferry. I ended up having to take the express bus (on a tight schedule) and two Ubers (more money than I would have liked) to get there. I was also carrying quite a load of things on my back. So by the end of the day, I was pretty tired, and my shoulders were sore and tight from the weight I carried. All of that was annoying, but in the end, I didn’t mind it because it meant I got to cook for my friend. And I find meaning in helping her, in cooking for her, in nourishing her, and in making sure she feels loved and supported. There is meaning and purpose in doing all that to me. And while most people would never do something like this for a friend, even a close one, or someone who was not blood related, I think that most people in general want to do the easiest, laziest thing just to have more time for themselves to do things that are completely and utterly meaningless. It is so easy to send a baby gift, to attend a baby shower (it’s a party where you get free food!), to even send a DoorDash gift card or pay for someone else’s food delivery. All of the above acts, other than attending a shower, can be achieved in minutes and with just a few clicks of a keyboard or taps on your smartphone. What is not easy is traveling to your friend, who lives over 1.5 hours away from you by public transport, cleaning her kitchen, making her several home-cooked dishes and teas that you know she will like and savor, and cleaning all that up so she doesn’t have a mess left behind.

I think we really show the people in our lives we genuinely love and care for them when we do the things that are not easy, that actually require real thought, time, and effort. I was chatting with some colleagues about doing this for my friend this week, and they all commented and expressed how amazed they were that I’d do something like this; it’s odd to me because most of them know I love cooking, so it’s really not a strenuous effort on my part. I kind of shrugged. For me, as I stated above, this is meaningful. I want to spend time doing things that make me feel like I’m fulfilling a purpose and giving my life meaning. What do they spend time on that they find meaningful?