Influencing others in foodie expeditions

I was out with a friend, her son, and Kaia today for an outing to Arthur Avenue, aka Little Italy in the Bronx, and the Bronx Zoo today. We ate lunch at an Albanian restaurant Chris took us to a while back, and then we made our way around the Little Italy area so I could show her some of my favorite spots. Lucky me, I also got all four of us free tickets to visit the Bronx Zoo today, courtesy of a parent in Kaia’s class who works for the Wildlife Conservation Society. So the day ended up being quite inexpensive for New York City!

While hanging out today, my friend let me know that she, her partner, and son did a day trip to Fort Lee yesterday, after I had told her about the big Korean population there, and hence the delicious, authentic Korean food. They took an Uber over there and spent about half the day exploring. They ate at a local restaurant and were blown away by the food. She and her partner especially loved the banchan dishes that came out at the beginning of the meal, all complimentary.

“You know, this is all really thanks to you that we are branching out of just eating Turkish, French, and Italian foods,” my friend said to me. “We’re so much more adventurous now because of your influence! I started experimenting with more food, and now I am getting S out of his comfort zone. And he really, really enjoyed the Korean meal far more than I expected! He was still talking about it this morning!”

This made me so happy; it probably was the one comment she said to me that truly made my day. I love it when I hear about people — anyone really — taking my recommendations on anything from food, restaurants, sights to see, tours, places to visit. For me, it’s the biggest compliment. Everyone has so many choices they can make in a single day, so for someone to take my suggestion/advice seriously and actually carry it all the way through, it always makes me feel ecstatic. It was already a compliment months ago when she said she started exploring more cuisines because of me. But when she said that her partner, who is notoriously picky and narrow in his food choices, actually was willing and embraced Korean food, I just sat there in shock and joy.

I recently read an article about how you can get people to like you. And one of the ways it mentioned was to tell people when something reminded you of them, or tell them when you did something that was at their recommendation. This is 1000000000% true. But this is only true if you already liked them at least a little.

Sibling loss survivors meeting

When I was at the AFSP NYC Out of the Darkness walk on October 25, as the walk ceremony concluded and the actual walk commenced, a lady walking alongside me tapped me on my shoulder and asked if I was Yvonne, who gave the speech on stage. I said I was, and she proceeded to give me her business card and introduced herself as J. She thanked me for my speech and said it really moved her, then burst into tears. I hugged her (well, as best as I could since we were a sea of walkers at that point along a route!), thanked her for reaching out to me, and let her know that I’d contact her after the walk.

I did what I said I would: I emailed her after the walk. She replied back within a day and we set a time to meet, which ended up being late afternoon today. We met at a little cafe close to Kaia’s school so I could pick her up easily after. She shared her story with me about how she lost her younger brother to suicide last year, how it took her by surprise because he was so high functioning, with a “picture perfect” life: married with two (now adult) kids, high powered, high earning career, living in the ‘burbs. Growing up, they lived in an affluent neighborhood and were part of a loving, “very functional” family. She said she’s trying to put together bread crumbs for why he took his life because she truly saw no signs, and that’s why it still hurts her so much. She has two brothers, but this was her closer sibling. She’s been in grief counseling every other week since his passing; she’s trying to find ways to support others to reduce the stigma around suicide and to get people to open up more about their struggles, their depression, their thoughts.

On the morning of the walk, I was interviewed by a New York City storyteller who asked what I wished more people understood about suicide. I only had time to give part of my answer, but one piece of it came back to me when I was talking with J this afternoon. I shared with her that some of the people who struggle most can also be the people who seem the most capable, successful, and the most put together from the outside. This is also known as “high functioning depression.” I’ve come to understand how easily impossibly high expectations can turn inward: when someone feels they are constantly falling short of the standard they’ve set for themselves, that disappointment can start to feel less like “I failed at something” and more like “I am a failure.” And in a very dark place, that belief can become the idea that they don’t deserve to be here, or that the people they love might somehow be better off without them. It was like a light went off in her head; J immediately responded to this and said this description was definitely her brother.

“Your speech was really beautiful,” J said to me over tea during our meeting. “I just thought it was so well written and spoken. It really spoke to me. And you and I are the same: we have both lost a brother we so dearly loved.”

She’s right: we are both sibling loss survivors. We are bonded through a shared experience of tragedy and despondency. I smiled and thanked her. It made me happy that at least one person in this audience felt something from hearing me speak. And it made me even happier to see that she was getting herself help and also trying to find ways to use her grief to help others in reducing the stigma around depression and suicide. That’s all we have left to do in life now to keep our brothers’ spirits alive.

Gratitude for friendship

The older you get, the harder it is to make friends. The odd thing is that I’ve probably made more friends since the pandemic than before that in my entire time in New York City. Part of it was because I was just more intentional about finding qualities I liked in people and pursuing them (almost like platonic dating).

Fundraising for AFSP has oftentimes felt like a just-me endeavor. I’ve been lucky to have friends come join me at the walk some years. Chris has always accompanied me. Since Kaia has been around, she’s been dragged against her will. This year, I had three friends join the walk; two of them even recorded my speech, which has enabled me to share this with friends, family and colleagues. The fact that I have friends who care enough to come to this walk with me at all show me that the best people in your life will show up for you when it really matters.

I have a more distant friend who has donated every single year. And with her donation, she always writes me a really sweet, heartfelt note. This is part of what she wrote me this year:

“Each year, you find a way to capture the lingering effects of the loss of a sibling to suicide. Each year, the story is a little different as your life evolves, as your child’s life evolves, and yet the empty place in your heart left by Ed’s tragic death remains. It is not static, but changes shape and form as the things in your life show you all the different angles from which his light could have shined brightly. We see in our mind’s eye the Ed that might have been, the proud brother, the doting uncle, maybe even the fellow parent?

When I first began donating, I did it mostly for your sake, and the horror I felt regarding the way others in your family reacted. It is truly as you say: Silence and stigma help no one! My psychiatrist says, though it’s hard to witness, their reaction is not uncommon. What a wonderful contrast we have in you, and in the whole “Out of Darkness” concept.

Now I feel that I donate for you AND for Ed. Each year your portrait of him, painted with your heart, has made this person I never met more and more dear to me, and I look forward to spending this time with him through your words. I’m knowing him as he was, but also who he IS, as he lives again through your words and actions. What a man he must be, to inspire such loyalty in his sister!”

How lucky I am to have friends who not only show up for me, but also take the time to write such thoughtful messages.

An interview with a NYC story teller

A few months ago, the executive director of AFSP NYC asked if I’d be interested in featuring my story about why I walk at the national level. I’m an open book and am happy to find ways to help others, so I said that I’d be willing to participate. Fast forward to this last week, the AFSP head of social media reached out to schedule time before the walk at Pier 16/17 to meet with David Eng, a New York City-based videographer and story teller, to discuss why I walk and why I fundraise with AFSP. He would be producing videos showcasing personal stories of why people walk, and they asked me to sign off on some release forms so that they could post these videos publicly.

I kept looking at his name and wondering why he sounded so familiar. I quickly looked him up on Instagram and discovered that he’s actually done the food videos for Banh and Kopitiam, some of my very favorite restaurants in the city. I actually already knew his work and really enjoyed it. I was a little nervous, thinking, wow, he’s interviewed and featured people who run some of the best businesses in the city, and now, he’s just sharing my (Ed’s) story?!

The head of social media found me, and we chatted while we walked over to David staking out some good recording spots with indirect light. I asked David about his Banh connection, and we geeked out over Vietnamese food for a bit; he was incredulous that I’d actually seen his Banh video since he said it was from over three years ago. He has since stopped doing food stories because they are very chaotic and stressful due to restaurant scheduling/hiccups. Now, he focuses most of his work on social media (for Banh Anh Em!!) and on telling human stories of real New Yorkers — like myself.

They had given me some prompt questions ahead of time to get my thoughts organized before the interview. But the interview itself ended up being a lot more thought-provoking and emotional than I had imagined. David was a really great, sensitive interviewer. He asked me a lot of questions that I don’t believe I’ve ever been point-blank asked before about Ed, about my journey toward healing and helping others.

One question he asked me, which I know no one, not even any therapist or close friend has asked, is, “If Ed were here today (assuming he’s still not alive), what would you say to him?”

I paused for a while on this. I didn’t tell him this, but I write Ed a letter on this blog for every birthday of his, every anniversary of his passing. So I do “speak” to him as though he’s in the other world, heaven, whatever you want to call it. But this question I suppose hit differently because this was a live conversation, in person, and I have never been asked that face to face by anyone. It’s a hard one.

I partially shared this, but not all my thoughts (no one has time for all of it). This is what I would say:

I love you. I miss you so, so much. I hope you are proud of everything I’ve accomplished, everything I’ve done to help others in your name. I want you to know that you didn’t die in vain, you did not die for nothing, that I’m doing everything with the little power that I have to keep your legacy going. Every person I can support and help — I do it in your honor and to keep your memory alive. You may not be here anymore, but in my heart, you are always, always living on in me. I have not forgotten you; I will never forget you. I will try to live my best possible life and do right by people because that’s what you would have wanted for me, for Kaia. You will always be a part of me — the best part of me. Your life mattered. It still matters.

Line up, line up!

Kaia has really been immersed in Chinese since she started at her current school. Sometimes, she tells me what she’s learning and what things mean, even when I don’t ask. I never formally learned any Mandarin Chinese until college, so a lot of the seemingly basic, kindergarten-level things she’s learning are things I never learned myself. But because I did study it, I pick up a lot of these things simply based on context. For example, she kept saying that they often do work in small groups; she never explicitly said that. But she did say, “G and I are in B 组 (zǔ); but C and M are in A 组 (zǔ).” Based that, it’s clear to me that 组 (zǔ) means team or small group.

While observing the kids at soccer yesterday, I also saw a few of them line up and act silly. As they lined up when going up the stairs from the gym, they chanted, “排排队,排排队,一个跟着一个排. That is “Pái pái duì, pái pái duì, yīgè gēnzhe yīgè pái” or, “Line up, line up, one following right behind the other.” There is something really sweet and almost magical about a bunch of kindergarten kids, chanting the exact same words in perfect unison, all wearing the same uniform.

I wasn’t very pleased that her school had a dress code when we first learned about it; it’s essentially a school uniform, but the colors for top and bottom change by day of the week. But now that we’re over a month into it, I will admit that it does make life easier. I don’t have to fight with her in the morning regarding what she’s going to wear; she knows what day requires which colors. She sees all the other kids wearing the exact same thing, so there’s no reason to whine or have comparisons. Because all the kids are wearing the same thing, they all match, and she does enjoy matching. And well, I do admit that it is really adorable seeing all the kids matching and wearing the same thing every day: it does make school seem more formal and serious.

Plus, as they chant “排排队,排排队,一个跟着一个排,” it looks and sounds better to me when they are all in uniform! Plus yesterday, they were especially matching because three of them had the same single braid hairdo!

Vermont: Population density, covered bridges, and maple grading changes

I have lots of fond, delicious, and happy memories of being in Vermont. Back in 2009 (or 2010), I came here for the first time for canoeing, hiking, and the Burlington and Brattleboro towns and farmers market. In 2014, I came here on a stop with Chris and his parents, and we did a Ben & Jerry’s factory tour and tasting, visited the “graveyard” of retired ice cream flavors, and also did a very thorough and delicious tasting of cheeses at Cabot Creamery. Now over 12 years later, Chris and I are back with the Pookster in tow for our autumn leaf peeping long weekend! And we are in luck: the leaves are definitely changing colors. We’ve seen so many gorgeous colors on this trip already!

I started thinking more about the state of Vermont versus New York and California, the two states I am most closely associated with. And as we were driving through Vermont and even in just Middlebury, where we are based during this trip, I thought about how I have always lived in relatively densely populated places, and how living in a place like Vermont would probably feel far too quiet and even borderline spooky for me. California is where I was born and raised and lived for the first 18.5 years of my life; it’s the most populous state in the U.S. New York is the fourth most populous state in the country, with a large chunk of that population in New York City, where I live. Vermont, on the other hand, ranks 49th (out of 50) for total population, and it’s one of the least densely populated states in the country. New York State’s overall population density is about six times Vermont’s; New York City is about 400 times more densely populated than the entire state of Vermont. It’s no wonder everywhere we go here, I marvel at how much open space there seems to be, and how far apart all the houses and buildings are. It’s because relatively speaking, they are all very far apart when compared to anywhere in New York City! The town of Middlebury feels rural, but then to me, perhaps the entire state of Vermont feels rural!

Stereotypically when I think of Vermont, I think of three main things: 1) maple syrup (obviously), 2) dairy and all things related (Cabot Creamery makes some of the best cheese in the country. Plus, I even like their branding and logo), and 3) Bernie Sanders. But when I started reading more about Middlebury, I started thinking more about the local college, Middlebury College, which is a highly ranked liberal arts college here, and all these “covered bridges” I kept seeing pop up as potential tourist stops here. For about a split second during my senior year of college, I considered applying to Middlebury College… that was, until I looked at it on the map and saw how it was in the middle of nowhere. Then, I immediately nixed it. Even at the age of 17, I knew I needed to be in or near a major metropolitan area, otherwise I would go nuts (I still feel this way today, so no wonder I live right in Manhattan). Vermont, the “Green Mountain state,” is also known for its covered bridges. While there used to be about 700 of these peculiar bridges, today, only 100 remain standing. These covered bridges were originally built with large structural wood trusses; their main purpose was to solve for all the endless rivers that are all over the state. The bridges are all quite short; Chris drove across the Halpin bridge yesterday and I walked across it; it took me less than 30 seconds to walk across this tiny covered bridge, built back in 1840. Because these bridges were all wooden, if they were exposed to rain, snow, and freeze-thaw cycles, they would rot pretty quickly. So, the bridge isn’t covered to keep travelers dry; the bridge is covered to keep the bridge dry and protected. This is such an interesting fun fact!

Today, we visited two different farmers markets: Burlington Farmers Market and Shelburne Farmers Market. There was a great variety of vendors at both. I always love seeing the local produce and goods at each city and town we visit when we can. At the Burlington Farmers Market, we picked up some local chestnut and lion’s mane mushrooms (they were organic and so fresh and springy!), Vermont goat cheese (loved the taste and texture of this one), “artisanal” marshmallows created by a local pastry chef, a bottle of local bourbon, and a bottle of local whisky. At the Shelburne Farmers Market, we bought a bottle of local orange wine. At both markets, we saw the inevitable vendors selling maple syrup and other maple products, and I noticed that instead of saying “Grade A” or “Grade B” as I had previously seen during my 2009 Vermont visit, the labels said something more descriptive, like “Golden Color,” “Amber Color,” or “Dark Color.” So I made a mental note of this to research this later. In 2014 (the year we last visited Vermont), Vermont actually officially overhauled their maple syrup grading system, as “Grade A” vs. “Grade B” was far too confusing (I would agree with this). In 2015, this became official nationwide. The old hierarchy that I remember, “Fancy,” Grade A, and Grade B, was replaced because darker syrup was not actually lower quality; it just had a stronger flavor, which many people prefer (including me!). I distinctly remember a colleague who had a spouse from Vermont say that he preferred “Grade B” because it had a stronger maple flavor and was darker in color. But to the average person, “Grade B” sounds like it would be inferior quality to something labeled “Grade A.” Today, the grade tells you mainly about color and flavor intensity, which makes more sense immediately. Grade A is all commercially available maple syrup now; this is the default for anything you can buy. “Grade B” does not exist, period.

So, I learned a lot of new things today about the second least populated state in my country! I’m so happy I got an update on Vermont’s maple grading and how it changed in 2015; I feel so much more “in the know” about local Vermont facts, and perhaps more importantly, national food facts now. 🙂

Kaia and her bed full of stuffies, aka her “siblings”

Since Kaia was very little, I could tell she was very nurturing. She’s always shown care and concern for others. When she was just over two years old, there was a new little girl in her 2s class at daycare. This girl was terrified and scared of everyone, actively avoiding interaction with anyone. But Kaia managed to take this kid under her wing and make her feel welcome, doing activities with her and making her feel included. Kaia’s vocabulary was quite limited, then; she never told me what she did. She simply mentioned the name of her new friend in class. I found out via this girl’s mom when we ran into each other at pickup. The mom shared that her daughter kept mentioning Kaia’s name and how much she liked her. In the mornings, drop offs became less painful because she said she was going to see Kaia again, and that made her excited for the day at school.

Kaia is now the youngest kid in her kindergarten class. She doesn’t get much interaction time with the 2s, 3s, or 4s classes at this school. So I suppose her only time to “take care” of others is with her “siblings” at home. She claimed my work chair the other day, insisting I couldn’t use it for work anymore because she needed it to push all her little brothers and sisters around. Then tonight when I tucked her in for bed, she gave me a disapproving look and said, “I also need to tuck Irene and Maddie and Flora and (keep naming the 10 other “siblings”) so that they are super comfy, too, Mama!” So we gave each of these siblings a little spot on the bed beside her, tucked each of them in together, and then I kissed her good night.

This doesn’t sound like a truly significant moment, does it? It sounds like an everyday thing with a child of Kaia’s age. But that’s the thing, though: the things that are seemingly everyday to us now will eventually fade from the front of our minds to the back of our minds…. into a distant memory, and then potentially be long forgotten. And then we’ll move on to the next thing that will occupy our minds and follow the same process of disappearance. So I thought about this as I closed her door to a crack and thought to myself: this is such a beautiful little moment of my little kindergartener, wanting to care for and nurture her “little siblings,” also known as her endless collection of stuffies. And I should write it down now so that in the event that I do forget, when this becomes the past, that I can always look back to this and remember.

The compost worms and Kaia

While in San Francisco and staying with my parents, Kaia loves to go out to my parents’ backyard and see my dad’s compost, specifically the worms that live and nourish the compost bin. To be frank, I am not sure what the hell my dad does with this nutrient rich compost soil he is creating, but since it gives him joy, we just have to “let them!” If it gives him joy and a reason to be, plus it keeps his mind and body occupied, then I consider it a win for all. Before we left, Kaia requested to see the worms before going to the airport. So my dad was really excited and proudly showed them to her one last time. Then last night unexpectedly, I got this text message from my dad:

“My compost worm said hi to Kaia.”

I smiled when I read this. If you don’t know my dad, then you won’t know why this message tickled me so much and warmed my heart. My dad is usually stoic, always emotionless and rarely shows any real love or affection; he just doesn’t know how. He’s spent his entire life just surviving and being deprived of any real tender care. So now that Kaia is here, she gives affection so easily that it’s like her second nature. So she happily showers it on everyone and anyone, including her Gonggong. And I’m sure it made my dad happy. So he remembered this and wanted to interact with her in this way by sending this text, which is a hundred percent out of character. This is a very playful, affectionate message, one that in a million years I would never have guessed my dad would send to me, even if it’s for my kindergarten-age daughter.

Becoming a mother has changed my life in more ways than I could count. And incredibly, it’s also even changed the way I see my dad. At the core of every person is someone who wants to be seen, recognized, and loved; this is no matter how unfeeling and stoic they may be on the outside. Maybe that’s what my dad was missing in his life all along. Now that he has someone who does this for him, loudly and unabashedly, as in, his granddaughter, something new has been awakened in him.

A letter of well wishes for my sweet Kaia Pookie on her first day of kindergarten

I originally wanted to write a little letter, as in a real paper letter, to Kaia and read it to her on her first day of kindergarten. But then I wasn’t sure she’d want me to read it to her.. And that she may end up writing and doodling all over it since she cannot yet read herself. So, this year, I will keep it on this blog. I will save writing a real letter on paper for her when she is able to read… which is unbelievably just around the corner.


To my dearest Kaia Pookie,

It is with a bittersweet, squishy heart that I write this message to you, wishing you the very best on your first day of kindergarten, or your first day of formal schooling. 祝你幼儿园第一天超级棒!开开心心上学去! It is trite because it is so true: the days are long, but the weeks and years are so short. I can say with complete honesty in my heart and mind that taking care of you, protecting you, and loving you have been the ultimate joy and job of my life. I don’t think you are aware of how often I look back at old photos and videos of you on my phone, whether it’s a year, two, three, or four years ago when you were just a wee baby, and think about how precious all these sweet moments have been for me. The days were often exhausting, especially in your newborn days, but I could not get enough of sniffing your ethereal, sweet newborn scent. I regret none of my time and efforts in nourishing and taking care of you in the best way possible. I still look back fondly all the time at every moment with you, but especially your solid start days; those were some of my true favorite moments in raising my sweet Kaia Pookie. You were an amazing eater then, and you still are an incredible eater now! Please don’t stop!

It feels like it all flew by so quickly: triple feeding, pumping milk, endless diapering, prune juice (#ifkyk), blow outs, baby-led weaning, your first (and then endless!) words, your first steps, tantrums, potty training, and increasing understanding and awareness of everything around you. Where did all the time go? Sometimes, I get very wistful and sad. But that’s why sometimes I make your Daddy mad and am soft with you; sometimes I just want to sit in the moment with you and snuggle and cuddle and see you carefree and silly. You are my only baby, my one sweet baby, and I want to relish the moment with you. I’ve loved every stage of your development and hope you will continue to be sweet, kind, thoughtful, curious, affectionate, cuddly, and think of others. Kindergarten is a big step, Pookster, but there is a long, windy path ahead of you, filled with lots of learning. Remember: you always have to try, try, and try. Sometimes you will try and fail, but that doesn’t mean you just give up. You have to keep going and try again. I always say this to you: 加油! You have to keep going and keep trying! And when you succeed, we can celebrate the wins. Some things will come easily to you, while other things will be more of a challenge. If it doesn’t challenge you, it will not change you. And change is a good thing. Remember that the next time something is really hard. Don’t be afraid of failing, though; you can learn from every mistake, not just in school, but in life.

If there is one tiny piece of advice I will give for learning, it is to always be curious, to ask lots of questions when you don’t understand or may not agree. The more questions you ask, the more answers may come. Don’t be silent and keep lingering questions to yourself. You want to expand your horizon and your knowledge! This is what school and learning are all about!

I hope you make new good friends at your new school. The definition of “friends” will change and evolve over time and as you get older, but always remember to be kind and share with your 小朋友. You will not get along with everyone, and not everyone will like you, and that’s okay. You don’t have to be friends with everyone, but you should always be kind, always be true to who you are.

I hope you know how much Mama and Daddy love you, how your health, safety, and happiness are our utmost priorities. We hope that you will be open with us about what is going well and what is not. You should never feel afraid to share with us; you can always tell Mama and Daddy everything and anything. We hope you will always see us as your safe space. We are always here for you no matter what.

We love you so, so much, my sweet Kaia Pookie baby. Even though you are in kindergarten now and are soon turning five, you know you will always be my sweet baby, right? You are my one and only, and for you I want to do my very, very best and be here for as long as humanly possible to watch you grow and thrive. Wishing you the very best on your first day of kindergarten. Muah.

As one of your favorite Chinese songs, “宝贝宝贝,” (BaoBei BaoBei) says: 你是我们的心肝宝贝 / 爸爸妈妈的爱永相随 (You are the apple of our eye; Daddy and Mommy’s love will always be with you). <3

With all my love, your mama,

Yvonne

Some people can still surprise you when you least expect it

Years ago, I asked a friend what my least attractive quality was. I could name at least a dozen qualities I have that would deter people from liking me right away pretty quickly (to be honest, today, I don’t give a shit, but at least I have self awareness unlike many). But she said something I did not expect to hear: “You are really predictable,” she said to me at the time. That was in 2008. We’re 18 years past that now, so I’d like to think that may have changed… maybe.

If “predictability” is a real quality of mine, I’d like to say that I got it from my mom. If you know her as well as I do, almost every single thing she says and does is entirely predictable: her likes, dislikes, criticisms, reactions, lack of reactions, purchases, objections, what she wants to do, see, or eat. You name it, and I can predict it. But during this last trip, she actually said something to me out of the blue that I did not expect at all.

“Yvonne! Can you come here?” my mom called across the house when she was in the bathroom. “I want to ask you something.”

I wasn’t sure this was going to be good. Obediently, I walked into the bathroom where she was. Out of nowhere, she had my clear toiletry case laid out on the bathroom counter.

“What do you put on your skin now?” my mom asked, with a very curious look on her face.”I was looking at your skin while we were at the restaurant the other day, and I couldn’t believe how nice it looks! It’s so bright and clear and young! What are you doing?”

I sheepishly smiled. I wasn’t expecting that she was going to say anything positive to me about my skin or appearance. I am so used to my mom pointing out all my sun spots or pimples over the years that I have just ignored her most of the time when she points out my flaws… even when they are blatantly staring back at me in the mirror.

So I walked her through my skincare routine, both morning and night time. I told her what I use and in what order. I told her I always, always put sunscreen on my face and neck in the morning even if I don’t leave the house. I even reapply it midday now, based on what my dermatologist suggested. I told her about my prescription skincare and the “cheap” skincare I get in bulk at Costco. I even admitted to her that I always wear a hat outside now… which she had always advised me to do since my teen years… which I just ignorantly declined to do… until the ripe age of 35 when my sun spots really started to piss me off. So yes, sometimes my mom is right about some things…

My mom looked like she was a in tizzy after I walked her through everything. “How do you have time to use so many products? This is a lot!” my mom said in shock. “No wonder your skin looks this good!”

I insisted to my mom that it only took an extra few minutes each morning and night. Now, it’s so routine that it’s really nothing for me. She then proceeded to test out every skincare product in my toiletry bag. She told me she wanted me to buy her a specific one I’d transferred to a travel-sized container… which happened to be one of the cheapest items in my routine, which is the Cerave Moisturizing Cream with ceramides I get in massive bulk from Costco and just started using in the spring. I told her it’s just from Costco and that I’d send my dad the link so he can buy it for her the next time he goes. That cream is quite a bargain and a little gem find at Costco!

I am shocked that at age 40, I’ve already gotten complimented about my skin by both a friend who does Botox and my own mom! It’s interesting what wisdom comes with age! Maybe being “middle aged” isn’t so bad after all.