Showering at night vs. day vs. TWICE a day

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Before I started morning workouts, I always showered at night. This logically makes sense: you go out all day and get dirty from being out and about. And then you clean yourself before getting into bed. That keeps your bed cleaner and means you go to sleep clean. Yes, you sweat at night, but that’s a different type of “dirt.” Showering at night means that you wash away all the external dirt off you.

Then, my showering schedule completely had to change once I started working out in the morning. It’s crazy to think about it now, but I started this in early 2013, so that’s over 12 years of morning workouts for me! There was no way I was going without a shower after sweating buckets during an AM workout. I don’t think my colleagues would have appreciated that, nor would I have wanted to go around cloaked in my own sweat all day at work. So I’d shower after my morning workout and head off to the office. And at night, because I absolutely hate the idea of showering twice in a day (that’s a real first-world luxury I just could not bring myself to do unless it were totally, totally necessary), I would just forgo a shower and sleep… with all of the outside world I was exposed to dirtying my bedsheets. I didn’t love this idea, but again, I wasn’t going to shower twice a day. So if I wore sandals and had my bare feet exposed, I would always wash my feet (I suppose this is a very “Asian” practice) after coming home to prevent outside dirt on my feet from dirtying my floors or bed.

So today, it was extremely hot in New York. I was at the co-working space working today and did both drop-off and pickup for Kaia. As soon as I got back home, I knew I had to have a (second) shower. I was dripping in sweat and sticky all over. I hopped into the shower, quickly washed myself, put on my PJs, and we all had dinner together. I always feel a bit precious and uppity when I do a second shower in a day, but with heat like we’re having in New York this week (it’s going to hit 100 F!), this would be unavoidable unless I want to skip my morning workout (not happening).

I like warm weather. But i am not a fan of sweltering, 90s+ F heat and humidity. This two-showers-a-day-thing hopefully is just temporary.

Kao fu (seitan) and shi zi tou (Lion’s Head meatballs)

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I look back on my childhood dining-out experiences, and almost all the meals out with family were Cantonese Chinese family-style meals. We always went to a no-frills Cantonese spot in the neighborhood that my grandma or aunt liked, and given we were with my grandma, aunt, uncle, and three sons, we always had a large table with a big lazy Susan in the middle. The few times when we were taking out someone “special” (some random relative or family friend who “had money”) as a guest of honor, my aunt or uncle would choose a fancier Chinese place that was a bit more upscale. At these rare fancy meals, the dinner would always start with an assortment of small plates, cold dishes that consisted of a variety of flavors, textures, and heat levels. The one that consistently showed up that I remember with fondness was hong shao kao fu (braised Shanghainese style seitan). I never knew what the heck it was. All I knew was that it was sweet, salty, umami, and had a variety of fun textures. I remember the meaty shiitake mushrooms, the crunchy cloud ear mushrooms, and some strange, squishy, meaty sponge-like thing that was almost like tofu, but not quite. As an adult, I later learned that this was called “seitan,” also known as wheat gluten, and was a popular meat substitute and source of protein for vegetarians/Buddhists. I also liked the slight crunch from the peanuts that were braised in the same liquid/sauce.

I finally made this seitan dish for the first time last year and was surprised how straightforward and easy it was. From my memory, it’s likely the very first Shanghainese dish I was ever exposed to. The second Shanghainese dish I had that I liked, which I wasn’t exposed to until I was in college with my Chinese teacher and our classmates, was shi zi tou, or Lion’s Head Meatballs. These are not made with lion meat (um, endangered and exotic), but rather with fatty pork, lean pork, and water chestnuts for crunchy texture. I made both of these dishes today for a mini ode to my Shanghainese Chinese teacher for my first two years of college. She not only taught me Mandarin Chinese language and more Chinese culture, but she was also responsible for giving me exposure to Shanghainese/Jiangnan style Chinese food, which was severely lacking in San Francisco (and even if it was plentiful, it would have been highly unlikely my very biased Cantonese family would have wanted to patronize those places).

You could spend your entire life learning about and making different Chinese dishes and likely never stop your learning. I’m happy to keep making “new” dishes for our home to ensure that Kaia is exposed to an endless variety of foods.

Our most valuable commodity: time

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Ever since I got pregnant with Kaia, I’ve thought a lot about a lot of my privileges as a mother, but especially in regard to time. Since I work remotely and have a flexible job, on average, I have far more time than the everyday parent of a young child to really engage with and spend time with my child. I notice her little changes every single day, what new words or phases she is speaking (and in what language), the movements she is progressively learning with how much more agile she becomes and grows into her body. In real time, I marvel over her development and growth. I admire how she’s able to see the world through such a sweet, innocent lens. As a toddler, Kaia can see the sheer, pure beauty in things and the simple magic in everyday life. I think a lot about what I love about motherhood/parenthood the most, and while this is quite a large category, I truly believe that what I enjoy the most is watching her discover new things and react to them with such a young, sweet joy.

I love it when she sees the trains coming in and out of the subway stations, and when they come and go, she waves hello and goodbye to them, sometimes yelling, “Hi!” and “Bye Bye!” loudly, eliciting smiles and compliments from nearby strangers. Sometimes when I am holding her hand and she wants to wave to the incoming/outgoing train, she yells at me and says, “Mama! Stop holding my hand! I have to wave bye bye to the train!”

I love when she relishes and gets excited about a new piece of clothing, usually a dress or skirt or swimsuit. I can feel myself smile hard when she discovers that she can twirl in a long-skirted dress or when there is a food or animal she likes on her swimsuit, like ice cream or popsicle or bird or tiger. I admire her admiring herself while twirling over and over and watching herself in the mirror.

And sometimes, even when it’s frustrating, I even like her cheeky stubbornness when it comes out because it’s so adorable (well, it is for now…). As of late, when we insist she has to do something she doesn’t really want to do, she will express exasperation and say, “Okay, fine!” – with major emphasis on the “fine!”

It’s even cute when she insists she gets the last “big” bite of something delicious, whether it’s an ice cream cup we’re sharing or a luxurious cherry rhubarb muffin (as we recently enjoyed from ACQ Bakery in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn). Kaia will exclaim in protest, “But I want the last big bite! You have to share! SHARING IS CARING!”

I think about when my mom was a young parent of one… and then two. I think about how she was always so pressed for time and had pretty much zero time to herself to rest and recharge. She didn’t have much quality time one-on-one with either of her kids. She had a rigid full-time job with zero mobility. She had a husband who was stuck on outdated gender roles. My mom was constantly multi-tasking and always worrying about what was coming next. And I feel sad sometimes when I think she probably wasn’t able to really enjoy and soak in these little moments. Like many mothers of her generation, she had to do almost all the housework and child-rearing… on top of a full-time job. When was she really able to stop and truly observe her children growing up in front of her very eyes? And then out of nowhere, both her kids grew up and became adults. Our childhoods wrapped up and came to an end. One of them died tragically. The other moved all the way across the country and sees her only about once a year now.

Being present in your kid’s life is a huge thing regardless of whether they are three days old, three years old, thirteen years old, or thirty years old. Every person on earth wants to feel loved, appreciated, listened to and understood, and like they matter. Everyone wants to be seen. While I feel sad that my mom wasn’t able to be fully present in Ed’s or my life, I feel very grateful and privileged that I have the ability to be truly present in Kaia’s life and enjoy watching her grow, moment by moment. I have a lot of luxuries in my life, but this is really one of the biggest luxuries I am privileged to enjoy.

Greenpoint – where all these cute little Japanese spots are popping up

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About three years ago, a spot called Dashi Okume opened in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It was a place that aimed to be the only custom-made dashi place in New York City, if not the U.S. Okume is originally a dry goods wholesaler at the Tokyo Central Wholesale Market; it was founded in 1971, so it has a long history of creating “delicious food forever.” Okume has a restaurant component, as well as multiple Japanese-owned businesses in a large, warehouse-like shared space. Japanese toasters and electronics, ceramics, and skin/haircare are here. You can even buy fancy (and insanely sharp!) Japanese knives here. I’d been wanting to come here for a while, but I finally made it here yesterday after some time with Kaia at Space Club and lunch at Wen Wen.

As soon as we walked into Dashi Okume, I felt a bit intimidated. You see bins and bins of different dried fish and seafood, multiple varieties of kelp/kombu/seaweed, dried vegetables, and mushrooms. By weight, you have an assistant help you select which ones you want for your custom dashi, and once you are done, they take all the dried pieces into a combined basket and dump it all into this huge, industrial-sized grinder. It shreds everything into small pieces, then portions out your dried dashi into 15 or 30 different perfectly portioned bags. Each bag yields about 300ml of “first dashi” stock, which you can then reboil and make second or third dashi if you so wish for a slightly more diluted dashi.

I couldn’t really deal with this during my first visit; it seemed like too much to choose with not enough background on proportions for dashi creation. I am no Japanese food or dashi expert. So, instead, I went to sip tastes of their already-created dashi. They had about five different types. You can self serve samples, all piping hot. Who would not enjoy having free tastes of fancy, ready-made dashi?! Even if you didn’t care to cook, the taste testing here would be fun and delicious. Predictably, I ended up getting a pack of 15 bags of their premium dashi, which was very seafoody, umami, and potent.

New York City is a hard place to get bored in. It seems like every neighborhood has something fun like this to discover. I love finding and enjoying new things and places in my adopted home.

Space Club for littles

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In the last week, through an Australian expat group, Chris found out about a kids’ play space that would be fun for Kaia. Space Club has two locations, one in Fort Greene and one in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It’s open 365 days a year and is $39 for one child accompanied by one adult for a two-hour play session. Any additional time is $15/hour. It seemed like a reasonable price given the cost of rent in New York City, plus what they offered.

The space was really thoughtful and well done. They have magna-tile and Lego building areas. There are walls that kids can put letters on or play on with sequin designs. There is a huge maze that goes up and down in various ways with slides that dive into a “star” pit. They have a glow-in-the-dark room with endless stars and spelling areas. There are sound and music areas. They have different types of swings, ladders, and ropes. The beading room, where you can literally swim in beads and make (and take!) as many necklaces and bracelets as you want, was a huge end playtime highlight for Kaia, who got to bead her very first handmade necklace. There’s also a cute cafe area with sanitizing wipes and big paper towel rolls, an Aussie-inspired, reasonably priced menu, and two spacious single restrooms with wet wipes, stools for littles to reach the sink, a nursing area, and clean open counters for you to rest any of your endless kid supplies/bags on. Space Club has Wi-Fi for any parents/caregivers who need to work or browse their phones.

Needless to say, Kaia was obsessed and did not want to leave. I also had a friend and their child come along, and their kid loved the play space, as well. I am already thinking about when I want to take her back here to enjoy other parts of the space that she didn’t get to play in much. New York needs more spaces like this that are affordable and creative for littles.

Braids at school

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This is a bit embarrassing to admit, but I did not learn how to do a proper braid until I was 33. I got inspired while we were in Bali when I saw all these braiding services on offer on every street and alley we walked down. I admired all the braids by tourists who were willing to pay for these services. And so I looked up some quick videos on YouTube to teach myself how to do a proper braid and a Dutch style braid (it’s just a backwards braid that points downward). I didn’t have the patience to look at French or twisted braids; that seemed too advanced for me. Maybe one day if I had a daughter, I thought, that could be my time to teach myself how to French braid.

Well, I’ve done a few basic braids for Kaia once her hair got long enough; now, it’s very, very long. She tolerated them for a bit a year ago, and now, she can barely sit still for a pony tail with me. However, she always, always sits still for teachers at school who want to braid her hair. Lately, Ms. Anna, her Chinese teacher, has been indulging her and doing the most complex twists and double French braids in her hair. She comes home from school with these beautiful knots that are not only tightly wound, but also very straight and even. It’s clear when she prances around that she is absolutely obsessed with her hair-dos.

The other day, I asked her if she wanted her mama to braid her hair. She gave me a disapproving look.

“No, you can’t braid my hair, mama!” Kaia exclaimed. “Only Ms. Anna can braid Kaia’s hair!”

Welp, I guess I missed my window.

Eating and embracing the food of her cultures

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Since before Kaia was even conceived, I knew I would be hell bent on making sure she embraced the foods of her culture, so Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, and well, inevitably Australian/American (whatever that means). It really wasn’t difficult at all, as she was exposed to flavors like sesame and soy almost immediately; within a week or two of eating solids, she was tasting and licking every Indian spice under the sun, including chilies! And since six months of age when she started eating solids, she’s never really stopped embracing these flavors. Her favorite vegetables, by far, are all the Asian ones like gai lan and yu choy. Kaia enjoys dal and richly flavored curries. As of late, she’s been obsessed with this miso that has Japanese butterbur flower buds that peak in the spring (!!) that a friend brought back from a recent trip to Japan. I’ve used it as a glaze on roasted eggplant, as well as in a braise with mushrooms and eggplant.

One area that Kaia has not quite embraced has been around Asian desserts (we intentionally have not given her any Indian sweets because they are like sugar bombs). In general, we’re strict with her sugar consumption, so when she gets sweets, it’s usually only a few tastes at most. I’ve tried to give her dou hua (tofu pudding) just to taste a few times. She will have one taste and then say she doesn’t want anymore. I tried to give her a black sesame tang yuan after cooling it, but she seemed put off by the black color. She had the same reaction to grass jelly and refused to even try it on multiple occasions (grass jelly is my THING). She did, however, very much enjoy taro coconut sago.

So when I went to Banh Mi Co Ut in Chinatown and picked up a fat slice of banh da lon (layered pandan and mung bean tapioca/rice cake), I figured she probably wouldn’t want any. These types of desserts are my ideal “sweets” to introduce to her, as 1) they aren’t too sweet, 2) they actually have nutritional value due to the protein in the mung beans and carbs from the rice/tapioca, and 3) they are the flavors of her culture. As she happily peeled lychees after dinner tonight, I briefly warmed a slice of the banh da lon for myself and placed it on the table between us. She immediately looked down at it and asked what it was. I told her it was pandan mung bean cake.

Her eyes twinkled. “Can I have some, please?” Pookster asked with a cheeky smile, expecting me to say no.

“Okay, you can have one bite,” I said to her, breaking off a piece of the squishy cake for her.

She tentatively took it, said thank you, and took a teeny, tiny bite and chewed. Deciding she liked it, she placed the entire piece in her mouth and chewed while smiling.

“Yum!” Pookster said. “Do you have more?” She started giggling with excitement.

WOW. I cannot even describe how happy this made me. My baby was finally embracing a Vietnamese dessert that I loved, that I grew up enjoying, that I always saw as a treat when my mom would surprise me by bringing some home. She was embracing the sweets of my culture, her culture, and there is little else that warms my heart than knowing she is embracing foods I either make for her or get for her.

I explained to her that we didn’t have anymore, but next time, I could either buy some more, or if I was feeling up to it, I might even make this at home with her (the negative response elicited a loud and long “Awwwwwwww” from her). This cake is laborious, as it’s layered and steamed multiple times with mung bean and pandan layers, but hey, maybe now was the time to embrace this cooking adventure! And it would make me so happy to make the foods of our shared culture together with my sweet Kaia Pookie.

Overnight potty training, continued – with an eventual success!

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We finally had a success last night! I was able to estimate the time of Kaia needing to pee early enough so that she did not wet the bed, and actually peed in the potty! I originally came to her bed at around 11:30, and she sleepily told me she did not need to pee. I laid with her for another 45 minutes, and then at around 12:15, she came with me to the bathroom with little resistance and urinated! Then, she insisted that she “wants mummy” to lie down with her. So I laid with her for about an hour and 15 minutes. I tried to sneak back out to my own bed, but she came out to look for me. As she stood in the hallway at around 1:30am, I asked if she needed to pee. She said nothing but wandered into her bathroom and turned on the light. I pulled her shorts down, placed her on her potty seat, and she urinated the second time that night. I had a pretty good feeling when I set an alarm for Chris to wake her up to pee at around 3am.

Chris had her successfully pee again at around 3am. I passed out and barely noticed that wakeup. When I woke up again just before 6:30am, she had come into our bed… with dry shorts. We didn’t have any wet bed situation, no soiled shorts to throw into the laundry, and no pee-stained Kaia to clean up this evening! It’s been our first fully successful night! We celebrated, gave her many hugs, kisses, and high fives, and I told her that if she kept this up, she’d be that much closer to getting her requested and much wanted pink and purple nail polish!

Now, the question is: can we keep eye balling correctly her pee windows and keep her dry so that she will then want to wake up on her own to pee?

Mandoline sliced something other than zucchini today

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Today was Father’s Day, and I thought it would be a good occasion to put together a cohesive meal. Most of the time when I am making food, I am thinking in singular dishes or about how many vegetables I need to prepare. Since Kaia was born, the only times I’ve really prepared a cohesive menu are when we’ve had guests over. But I really do want to change that because I prefer it when dishes are supposed to go together. So today, I made kimchi soondubu jigae (Korean kimchi soft tofu soup) with pork ribs, japchae (Korean glass noodles with vegetables), bindaetteok (Korean kimchi mung bean pancakes), rice, and three different types of banchan: soy bean sprout salad, marinated spinach, and zucchini.

For the zucchini banchan, I decided to whip out the mandoline Chris got me during the pandemic. Honestly, I haven’t used it too many times because I am a little terrified of it. I have a mandoline section on my box grater, but I’d only ever used it a few times and didn’t really trust it (it seemed too dull, which would beg for more pressure, which is dangerous!).

The few times I’ve used the mandoline setting, I was very deliberate with each slice. I watched each cut go through. I was always determined to never get cut by it… Until today, when I finally got cut by it. I was talking to Chris. Kaia was making a ruckus nearby, and I was very clearly distracted. I kept slicing the zucchini until it got way too close to my fingers, and SLICE! A huge section of the side of my right thumb got cut off. The blood was literally getting everywhere. I was dripping blood and leaving small puddles on the counter and floor. It took almost an hour and endless tissue, gauze, and paper towels to stop the bleeding, along with applying pressure and ice. I’d never cut myself this deeply before.

Luckily, I don’t think I cut any nerve or tendon, but it’s been pretty uncomfortable. The few times I’ve knocked myself in that spot, it hurts like hell. I’ve been doing my best to not use my right thumb, which is obviously hard. But it’s so painful when something even taps it. I have a feeling this will be the worst kitchen wound I have had to date. My friend, who also cooks often, was marveling that this was just my first mandoline cut (it’s a VERY common kitchen injury!). She even educated me on “finger condoms” (today, I learned…) and how I may want to get some to protect myself from similar injuries in the future.

Next time, when I am brave enough to take out the mandoline again, I will not talk to anyone or have my child near me. I will need to be 120 percent focused. Wounds like these are not fun at all, and even typing this feels odd because I am trying to avoid using a thumb to type…

Two rainy Saturdays in a row going out

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Last Saturday and today mark two Saturdays in a row this summer where we’ve seen grey skies and rain. Today’s weather was far worse than last Saturday, though: while last Saturday, it was drizzly, a little more, and grey, it was still warm. Today, however, was much cooler (I actually heard people shivering on the street and complaining how cold it was while wearing hoodies!), and the rain seemed a bit harder and more steady. My friend remarked last week that he was surprised we even went out given the weather. I laughed and told him that was silly. A little drizzly wetness was not going to prevent us from going out on a Saturday. The mere thought seemed ridiculous. We were not going to die once rain water touched us!

But the thing is – that’s how a lot of people feel about the rain. And it’s sad when you think about it. Why are you going to let a little sprinkle keep you home bound for an entire day? Are we really that delicate as a species?! It’s like you’re just letting life pass you by because of some subpar weather, which just seems a bit pathetic unless you are in poor health. Last Saturday, we were in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. Today, we were in Ditmars, Queens. While in Ditmars, we went to a popular Greek restaurant that usually has a wait of anywhere from one to two hours. Given the rain, they had zero wait, so we were seated right away. People deciding not to be out today due to the rain benefited us, so I wasn’t going to complain about that. But just the thought that people change plans just based on a little rain really sat with me throughout the day.

I suppose this thought relates to how i’ve been thinking about spending my time more intentionally, and part of that means spending less time on my phone looking at things that don’t matter (ahem, scrolling Instagram or Facebook or Reddit endlessly and staying the hell off of TikTok), reading news that I actually do want to read, and not feeling compelled to respond to non-urgent text messages right away. I don’t want some stupid social media platform or my phone having control over my time and life. So why should anyone let a little bad weather control their life, as well? Go out, do what you wanted to do, see who you want to see, carry an umbrella, wear rain boots or a raincoat, and live your life, for god’s sake!