The kindness of strangers continues in the form of Chinese “paper” sponge cakes

After pregnancy, childbirth, and becoming a mother, I think I should start a blog series entitled, “The kindness of strangers,” with each post detailing an exact example of the kindness I’ve witnessed being bestowed on myself and/or my child. Because I think that while the world oftentimes feels like it’s getting worse (and the country in which I am living definitely feels like it’s becoming more backwards by the day, especially with this current Dipshit administration), I am deeply heartened almost weekly, if not daily, by the little kindnesses directed towards Kaia and me.

At Kaia’s school, there is a “doorman” who works at the front of the building — we call him Ah Gong (like a polite term for grandpa, but not actually our grandpa). To be honest, he is probably around my dad’s age, is a grandpa of three, and likely could not be trusted as a real “security” guard in a true emergency, but he is the biggest sweetheart. Every since Kaia started going to this school, he has always been very warm, kind, and friendly with us. It’s clear he loves children: he always greets each of them warmly and enthusiastically, gives them a high-five or a hug when he sees them, and oftentimes will even spoil them with candy from a container I know for a fact he refills with his own money. Oftentimes I feel bad for Kaia contributing to the depletion of his candy stash, especially since we never even allow her to eat the candy; we’re simply stockpiling it in the pockets her backpack. But I know he really enjoys giving the kids candy.

So today we came down the stairs to exit the building. And he saw Kaia and greeted us. They did a high-five, and then out of nowhere, Ah Gong whipped out this big plastic takeout container that has three Chinese “paper” sponge cakes — the Chinese lightly sweetened, chiffon-style cakes that originated in Hong Kong. He said he wanted to give Kaia something very special and gave her the entire box! Ah Gong said she deserves it because she is so cute and “guai guai” (well behaved). Kaia excited took the entire container and thanked Ah Gong, and then in her “hehe, I got something special!” mood, almost skipped out the doorway!

Just last week while I was in Denver, Chris told me that Ah Gong gave Kaia a lao po bing (old wife cake/winter melon cake). I think he’s getting a little too generous and fancy. Kaia took one bite of it and decided she didn’t like it (I ended up eating it since I do enjoy them). So this wasn’t the first time he was dishing out Chinese bakery items to Kaia. I just couldn’t believe that he would be this generous. What are we going to do at the end of this school year when Kaia finally leaves this school, and we don’t get to see Ah Gong every day anymore? It’s going to be a very sad, wistful day.

Winter Storm Fern on Sunday, a Snow Day (no school) Monday, and evolving views on snow

In the winter of 2004, it was my first real, snowy winter that I’d ever experienced in my life. I was 18, in my first-year at Wellesley, and we had a beautiful snow fall that blanketed the entire suburban campus. I was preparing for my first real New England winter: I had bought a thick winter coat and a pair of big, bulky, waterproof snow boots. I was so excited to see the snow fall. My first time watching the snowfall, I really did feel like I was in a snow globe. And when the snow fall stopped, my friend and I immediately went outside to Severance Green, this vast lawn with a huge hill, for some sledding (using dining hall trays we temporarily stole from inside). We had to take advantage of the snow while it was still light and fluffy, and before it froze over into hard (and uncomfortable) ice.

I couldn’t believe how much fun it was to be in the snow for the first time. I was giggling like crazy. A friend and I made snowballs and threw them at fellow classmates. We all made snow angels and went down the hill “sledding” more times than we could count. My friend took lots of photos of my first real snow experience. She’s originally from Arkansas and had seen snow countless times, so she was thoroughly amused at how child-like and glee-filled I was to experience this all for the first time.

Since then, I do not have the same excited feeling about snow. I do enjoy watching it fall… while I am in the comfort of my heated home with a hot beverage in hand. I have very little desire to go outside and play with it. I get grossed out by how the snow is plowed in New York City and how that prevents me from getting into cars when I need to, and the black ice is terrifying to me. I know several colleagues who have had very painful falls from black ice in New York; one of whom actually broke her femur and had to have a very intense (and likely expensive) surgery that kept her out of the office for almost two months. But I do know Kaia likes it. I like how she gets excited by snow, creating snow balls, and getting snow thrown at her. It’s cute and funny. But outside of her enjoyment of it, I stay away from it. Maybe that’s just me getting old and senile. Or, what is more likely the case: I just want to avoid freezing temperatures as much as possible. And if I am making snowmen or snowballs, my hands are just going to freeze over.

Winter Storm Fern came as expected yesterday. The Department of Education announced early on Sunday that schools would be closed the next day (today). Given Kaia is in 4K/Pre-K, she has no ‘remote learning’ option, so this just meant we were with her the whole day and had to find ways to entertain her between work.

I tried to make a couple snow balls and throw them at her this early afternoon when we came back from lunch. It was cute to see her laugh and try to escape. But my hands got so frigid so quickly that it almost felt like the numbness was going to lead to frost bite in seconds. But even with Kaia, while she gets amused by seeing snow falling and seeing snow piled up, we can tell she doesn’t love it. She has said repeatedly she hates the cold. And how can we blame her given we 100 percent agree with her hatred of the bitter cold?

Childcare during a winter storm – no-win for anyone

We have an impending winter storm coming our way this Sunday. Every major news outlet around the country (and even world) has been talking about a winter storm affecting massive swaths of the U.S., from Texas all the way up to North Carolina and the entire Northeast of the country. Of course, that means we’re affected here in New York City. And so Kaia’s school let us know that we should watch out for emails from them from Sunday going into Monday morning. Our school administrator told me at pickup on Friday, “The latest you will see an email from us is 5am on Monday, but likely before that! That way, you’ll know whether we’ll be open on Monday. But if you hear news before that saying that DOE is closed… well, that means we will be closed, too!”

You think about stuff like this, and you realize that it’s not just that school is closed; it’s that you’ve now lost your childcare on a weekday, which for the vast majority of us, is a work day. Just because our child’s school has closed does not mean we just get a free day off from work. So, childcare becomes an issue. I’m a bit luckier in that Chris doesn’t do (paid) work, so he’s a bit more flexible, but it’s still a time and energy suck for all of us juggling having Kaia home. Plus, she doesn’t want to be stuck at home all day; home is not that fun after a while, and she’d much prefer to be playing with kids her own age.

We don’t have backup childcare options. Plus, given weather, delayed trains, and icy roads, many potential backup childcare options would no longer apply. We’d all be stuck. We end up just having to half-ass childcare/child-rearing and work. And that’s not good for the child, the work, or the parent. In these cases, everyone loses.

Winter is cold, and getting even colder, plus a secret love of boots

For years here in New York, winter hasn’t been a true “winter.” We haven’t had much snow relatively speaking due to global warming. December through March has been a milder weather period; it has always been cold, but just not as freezing as we expect. Snow has been sparse, so Kaia has had very few times to make and throw snow balls or build a snowman. But this winter, it has most definitely been cold. It snowed last weekend; the temperatures have been in the ‘teens and low twenties Fahrenheit. And Kaia is NOT a fan. As she is becoming more and more verbal by the day, she’s definitely making her opinions known.

She has protested almost every other day of boot wearing. “I don’t wanna wear boots! I wanna wear shoes!” She hates the high-top nature of the winter boots I bought her; she probably dislikes how her ankles can feel trapped in them. I can relate to that feeling, but I have since gotten used to wearing boots since moving to the East Coast.

Kaia told us multiple times this past week, “I don’t like winter. I want spring and summer. I want to wear sandals! I want it to be warm!” We agree with her; we also tell her that neither of us likes winter much, either. But winter does not last forever, and before she knows it, spring will be here, and she can shed all her thick layers and boots and wear regular shoes and dresses again.

I’ve adjusted to living in a four-season part of the country and world. I actually don’t mind it much. It does require more different types of clothing (and a very different skincare regimen in winter due to dryness!), but now that I’ve been here almost 18 years, this is my long-time current “normal.” One thing I have secretly embraced but never said out loud is that the best thing about living in a four-season place is that… I actually love boots! For someone who doesn’t like winter, this sounds kind of funny. But to be fair, most of my boots are autumn/winter boots, so it doesn’t necessarily have to be freezing cold to wear them. I still remember back in 2003 when the Wellesley recruiter came out from Boston to San Francisco, and she told me that she had at least ten pairs of boots — all for different types of cold/weather, occasion, and environment! My mind was boggled at the time when she shared this, but now, I completely understand. I myself have three different pairs of dressy boots, along with one pair of super casual, long Uggs (which I basically live in when it’s cold but not wet outside), one pair of rain/waterproof boots, and one pair of fall duck-style boots (which really need to be retired, after ten-plus years of wear, because I found out while in Denmark that one shoe has a hole in it!). So I have seven pairs of boots myself, which is kind of hilarious. I love all types of boots: I like the leather boots, the suede ones, the heeled ones, the flat ones. I like the Chelsea style boots, the tall knee-high ones, the slouch style boots, and even the chunky combat style ones. I could easily waste an hour on Nordstrom’s website staring at all their boots and wondering which ones would be comfortable and still look good in whatever weather. But then I think that if we end up moving to a warmer weather place, how often would I really wear all these boots, if at all?

Kaia doesn’t currently share my love of boots, but who knows — maybe she will embrace them as she realizes that you absolutely need these in cold weather climates. Or maybe she will shun them and refuse to ever live in a cold weather place ever again.

New B train rides and my sweet Kaia’s twinkling eyes

Kaia loves the subway, the trains, the buses, the cars, planes — all forms of transport excite her to no end. But in New York City, she especially gets excited about riding on the new B train. It’s always a toss up whether we are able to get on one coming back home after school, but today for the second time ever, we got lucky and got on one. She saw it from very far away and yelled, “It’s a new B train! I get to go on a new B train!” She was all smiles the entire ride home; she kept reciting all the stops we passed, plus the stops that were still to come. She counted down the stops until we arrived at Columbus Circle.

Parenthood is hard no matter what generation you are in, what age you are parenting. But there is a lot to love about it. I still love and get excited watching her get excited over things that as a jaded adult, I think are just mundane, everyday things. It’s like I get to see life through her eyes as someone who is just discovering the world and all the things that make up that world. Sometimes, it feels like a renewal to me, that I get the privilege to see the beauty of life through her eyes. Everyone makes their own life choices. Some people choose to be child-free. Some people who want children are not able to have them because of situations beyond their control. But it’s hard for me to imagine not having this experience of experiencing life through her young, growing eyes. It’s as though a richness of life would be absent from my life. I squeezed her and kissed her extra while on the train today, just reveling in how lucky I am to be able to be her mama.

Unreliable childcare = situation normal in the U.S.

Back in August, over a month before I confirmed and booked a restaurant for my 40th birthday dinner party coming up this Saturday, I reached out to our main babysitter who lives a block away to ask if she’d be able to babysit Kaia that night. She agreed and blocked it out on her calendar. And despite the fact that she confirmed she could come all the way back in August, I had this weird feeling in the back of my mind that something, somehow, would come up closer to January 17, and she would end up cancelling.

Unfortunately, my gut feeling was correct. I typically reach out to our chosen babysitter about a week ahead of the date they are scheduled to come to ensure they can still make it — just as a reminder. I texted her on Sunday and did not get a response until Monday morning, when she told me she could no longer come because her grandmother had died. It wasn’t clear what the timeline was for her grandmother’s passing, which is obviously sad, but all I knew was that I needed to find a replacement ASAP. And with less than a week’s notice, it would be a real challenge to find a replacement.

I immediately reached out to our #2 babysitter. She couldn’t make it because of her son’s basketball game. A third babysitter through Chris confirmed she also could not make it. I asked babysitter #2 if she could recommend anyone she trusted. She said that she had a 26-year-old daughter who has three kids of her own (and thus childcare experience) who she could ask if she would be free. She immediately found out she was, sent me her number, and we texted back and forth to confirm her pay rate, time, our address, and agreed to have her come.

Ideally, we’d have a babysitter come who knew Kaia, who Kaia knew. But in this case, we ran out of options. The three babysitters we usually cycle through were all unavailable. We have no backup care options through my work; Chris doesn’t work anymore, so his work benefit is long gone. We have no grandparents nearby. So we’re constantly at the whim of babysitters who can easily flake on us at any time, with zero notice. And then we’re stuck. In these moments, I get frustrated that reliable, trustworthy, affordable childcare is such a challenge and impossibility here. It feels like a no-win situation. And then I can’t help but get annoyed by people I know who do have able bodied, mentally sound grandparents nearby who can help (for free), yet they still complain about their free childcare all the time. No one is ever satisfied with what they have.

Mild food poisoning, but this time, for mama and daddy

Last night when I came back from the mall with Kaia and her new (and less than $3 USD) sandals in tow, I discovered that Chris had arranged a surprise birthday meal in our hotel room. The staff and the hotel chef were there setting up. They had organized birthday balloons, streamers, and a beautifully laid out table, even complete with a high chair for Pookster. The meal consisted of a seafood soup, wagyu steak with fries, garlic rice (of course), caesar salad, plus several huge slices of chocolate mousse cake. After eating earlier in the day along with some fruit smoothies, this felt like a lot of food, but we tried to do what we could to do justice to this beautiful meal the chef had put together for us.

This morning after brushing my teeth, I could immediately tell that something didn’t feel right in my stomach. I had that strange, queasy feeling that told me that I had eaten something bad. I even started feeling light headed, and a strange, muted pain was going down my neck. After eating a very light breakfast at the hotel buffet, I told Chris that I’d need to lie down while he and Kaia went out to have one last beach outing. At 12:30, we’d need to get on our shuttle, boat, and shuttle back to the airport, where we’d fly to Manila to spend our final night in the Philippines before heading back home to New York.

As I was lying in bed, I kept thinking that at least I got food poisoning towards the end of trip, rather than at any other time; it’s the least disruptive to our days. The last time I remember getting any real food poisoning was in Vietnam during my trip with my parents in January 2008; I was so sick that I was in bed for at least three days at the hotel. Then, I needed to be near a toilet at all times because I had such awful and sudden diarrhea. That was also at the tail end of our trip. My mom got so worried about me that she called our travel agent to shorten our trip by a couple days so that I could go home and “see a real doctor!”

We got our laundry done from the laundry services just across the street from the hotel, and so all our swimsuits were washed and dried. So Kaia ended up having to wear a t-shirt and her underwear to the beach (luckily, she’s still at an age where none of this matters to her). She happily went out with Daddy to have more ocean and sand time. I took some Pepto Bismol, Tums, and lid down on the bed for about two hours. Eventually I was able to get up and feel a little bit better, but I still had this lingering feeling of malaise all over me. I went out to meet them at the beach for a little bit just to get some fresh air and braced myself for the short boat ride that was ahead. I was really hoping that the water would be calm. The last thing I’d want was to vomit in transit.

Luckily for me, the water was very calm (I guess it just gets turbulent at night during high tide). So I was successfully able to get to the airport without throwing up. This was a huge win for me because all I could think of was… the very last thing I wanted was to end this trip covered in my own vomit.

We had a good flight back to Manila. And after checking into our hotel, having a light dinner at the lounge, and getting back to our room, I discovered that Chris also wasn’t feeling well. He spent a good amount of time on the toilet (at least it went out that way and not the other way), and then eventually went to bed. He clearly was not well. Kaia’s stool also wasn’t extremely solid, but her mood seemed to be happy (I’m so thankful to have a happy child). So preventively, we gave her one Tum before bed (she loves these things now! She keeps asking if she can have more medicine…). After a few hours of sleep, I woke up in the middle of the night to get Kaia to dream pee, and I realized that my upset stomach feeling was gone. What replaced it… was a general unwell, cold feeling. My throat was still sore, as this had begun on New Year’s Day. I was still coughing. I had phlegm. And I had a feeling some coughing fits may be in my near future, which is such terrible luck for me because I just had a cold like this back in late October!!

Traveling while feeling unwell is never fun. But being sick on a plane with recycled air is probably one of the worst situations. At least we are flying Cathay Pacific, so if I need hot broth, I have a feeling they will be able to provide me a very good one!

“The beach took my sandal away”

We discovered in Boracay that during the day, it’s generally low tide and the waters are calm and serene. At night, though, high tide arrives, and the waves can come all the way to the steps of businesses (that is REALLY far in if you knew how small the current was during the day!). As with most islands, typhoon alerts are very much a real thing to be cognizant of and concerned about.

Yesterday early evening, Chris was having a massage while Kaia and I played in the water and built sand castles at White Beach. But given we’re so close to the equator, the sun set relatively early, so people started leaving the beach. We eventually left the beach and spent some time walking on the streets to find a restaurant. The place I originally chose had a wait, so we had to find somewhere else. After further browsing, I ended up choosing a restaurant to meet Chris at that would be most convenient if accessed by going to the beach first. What I wasn’t prepared for, especially in the dark, was how far in the tide would be. Luckily Kaia and I both were wearing waterproof sandals, so we were able to walk through the shallow waves easily. But I did feel a little uneasy, wondering if one of her sandals would just disappear with the force of a wave. We met Chris at the restaurant and had a quick dinner.

But after dinner, there was no escaping going back into the water in the dark. There wasn’t a way for us to get back to the hotel via the street; none of the businesses would let us go through their businesses to get to the street (okay, so maybe not everyone here is hospitable). So we had no choice but to walk at the edge of the waves to get back. This time, Chris held Kaia’s hand and walked through the waves. And a few minutes in, Kaia yelled out that she didn’t have a sandal on anymore. We turned on our phone flashlights and tried to see if a wave would bring her sandal back in, but to no avail; the waves had swept away her sandal forever! She ended up having to walk barefoot on one foot for the distance back to the hotel. It wasn’t a long distance, but it was still very annoying. And we were obviously very unhappy to be that family who had their kid lose a single shoe! I was even more mad about this because I just gifted her these sandals right before this trip, and so she’d only been wearing them for a few weeks. I cannot even count the number of times I’ve seen a single flip flop, a single sandal, a single shoe, lying around on the streets of New York, in playgrounds, parks, and at beaches. Each time I see these, I’ve given a sad look at what was lost that I could see, but its rightful owner would unlikely ever see again.

Now, we have to get her new sandal replacements for this trip while here so that she could continue to enjoy what limited time we still have at the beach. We really liked these sandals a lot, and they matched with everything she wore. I felt guilty for not securing the strap more tightly before we left the restaurant (I always tried to strap it on tighter, but she’d yell and say she didn’t like it, and eventually loosen it).

When we got back to the hotel and cleaned up, she gave me this long, glum look and said, “The beach took my sandal away.”

And that’s the story of how White Beach took my baby’s sandal away.

Kaia loves big spaces and roaming around her “Sumi and Topey’s house” and garden

Kaia has decided to rename Suma and Topa (her paternal grandparents) to “Sumi and Topey.” I guess “Suma” and “Topa” were not loving enough names, so she had to give these appointed names a slight revision to make it more sweet for herself. Of course, Chris’s parents have lapped this up and love their revised names by their granddaughter. Kaia has enjoyed spending lots of time in Topa’s study “working.” She takes his main big computer desk chair and relegates him to his tiny “guest” seat, and they sit at the desk together “working.” Kaia usually listens to Ms. Rachel or her favorite K-Pop song “Golden,” while Topa does his usual computer activities at her side. Then, when Kaia decides she gets bored, she runs out, puts on her sandals, and runs all around the garden, oftentimes with her Sumi in tow. She throws her big Bluey ball around and starts dancing all along the backyard lawn. She’s been keeping Sumi company while she hangs laundry up to dry on the line. Today, she started collecting all kinds of random tiny shells that lined the outside laundry area and declared she was discovering all kinds of interesting things that Sumi didn’t know existed in her own backyard!

For the last week or so, she keeps announcing how much she loves Sumi and Topey’s house. She says, “SUMI! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! TOPEY! I LOVE YOUR HOUSE! I LOVE IT! I LOVE THE GARDEN!” And then she lovingly glances at both of them. Today, she looked up at me during breakfast and said, “Mama, I love this house. I don’t like our house.”

Yes, well, it is hard to compare a suburban four-bedroom, four-bath, two-story house with a two-car garage, plus a front and backyard that fully wraps around it, with a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in a large high-rise building in the middle of a concrete jungle, especially for a child as young and small as her. For Pookster, our Manhattan apartment is her benchmark for “normal.” I am sure she runs up and down the stairs at Suma and Topa’s house and all around the large rooms thinking she’s sprinting around some palace, relatively speaking. And then, if it wasn’t enough, she gets access to Chris’s aunt/uncles’ homes that are also large in comparison to our humble abode, and she just thinks she’s in some paradise. Today, I gave her a tour of Chris’s dad’s older brother’s garden, showing her the various trees, having her sniff the star jasmines that were in full bloom, and showing her the apples growing on her second cousin’s tree. I had her tear off a couple curry leaves from their burgeoning curry leaf plant, and she sniffed the familiar and unique scent of citrusy, nutty, anisey, oniony, even piney aroma. She then grabbed a bunch of the curry leaves, ran back into the house, and announced loudly to multiple cousins that she had curry leaves in her hands!

Sumi, Topey, and I reassured her that her house is fun, too, and we all love it. She loves it, and she has all her favorite books, stuffed animals, toys, and other “friends” at home waiting for her there. She also has her own bathroom at home, which she doesn’t have here. She smiled, stopped saying she didn’t like our home, yet still kept repeating over and over how much she loves this house. Well, it’s hard to not love this house given the amount of space and privacy you can have. But I look at it like dessert or treats: it’s something you get once in a while at special times of the year, but you cannot have it all the time, otherwise you would just take it for granted and not appreciate it as much. Both Kaia and I are lucky to be able to share this home when we come back with Sumi, Topey, and their eldest son. I’m always happy every year we come back and we can enjoy this beautiful place together. It will always be one of Kaia’s happy places — how lucky that she gets a nice, warm, loving home in both the Northern and Southern Hemisphere.

Family dynamics and commentary at Christmas

Today, we spent Christmas day and Chris’s 44th birthday at his dad’s younger sister’s house. This sister has three daughters, all of whom have moved to different parts of the world (Perth, New Zealand, and Canada). From everything I’ve observed about the way this aunt and her husband have raised their kids and the relationship they all have with each other across five people, it’s probably one of the happiest, most healthy and functional family dynamics I’ve ever been exposed to on a semi-regularly basis (okay… semi-regular as in once a year for many, many hours at a time). The kids all keep in touch with their parents. They have a loving sibling relationship with one another and always speak favorably about each other. And they are all supportive of their parents.

As I was chatting with another aunt during lunch today, she was observing how helpful all three daughters (and even one of the daughters’ husbands) were, as they seemed to have something like an assembly line of “getting shit done” going: one daughter was gathering plates and silverware that were no longer being used, another was scraping off food scraps into a bin and arranging them into the dishwasher, and the third was wiping down the kitchen island and rearranging napkins, plates, and desserts into their places. This was all while their parents were consolidating food into smaller containers and organizing other snacks for guests. This aunt, who has two sons, told me that though she was happy her oldest was close and would be here when she hosted all of us over tomorrow on Boxing Day, she was still sad her youngest son in London plus his daughter could not be there). Because not only would that mean she could see both of them, but she’d have an extra set of hands to help since she’s getting older and more tired. I reassured her and told her I’d be happy to help — I don’t really look at it as “work” since it’s easier when more people pitch in.

This aunt kept peering over at her three nieces at work in the kitchen. “It’s just always so nice when all the kids are home. It’s more lively and fun, and they can help out with everything, as well!” She paused for a moment, then glanced over at Chris’s brother, who has infamously been known in the family to not really help out… with much at all, anywhere, and be totally oblivious to this fact (and perhaps even worse, not care). And then she added while continuing to look at him: “Well, it’s happy when most of the kids help out.”

That’s the thing about family: you can love them to bits, but they can truly annoy the fuck out of you regarding how unaware they are of their own deficiencies that negatively impact everyone around them. But I suppose that’s what family is all about: loving your family, blood-related or chosen, despite their imperfections… and maybe even sometimes because of their imperfections. In these cases, at least it provides some comic relief.