Mother’s Day flowers in a dusted off butterfly vase

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Since today was Thursday, Chris did his usual Whole Foods grocery run after dropping off Pookster at school. He came back with groceries and bouquet of 16 red-orange roses for me and his mum, who will be back along with his dad this Saturday evening from a side U.S. trip to San Antonio, Texas. The flowers are in honor of Mother’s Day, which is coming up this Sunday. It will be the first and only Mother’s Day we’ve celebrated with his parents since Pookster has been around.

I unwrapped the flowers, trimmed them, removed excess leaves, and added them to a round vase. They dropped to one side clumsily, so I wrapped them with a rubber band so that they’d all stay together. Because the flowers do not “fill” the vase, they still all stayed on one side and looked a little depressed. So I went back to my closet and unearthed a slim rectangular butterfly vase that my friend had gotten me over 12 years ago when I was still living in Elmhurst, Queens. She said she was at a gift shop at a science museum back home, and when she saw this vase, she immediately thought of me and bought it. I realize that I hadn’t used this vase since I lived in Queens, so I decided to try these flowers out in the butterfly vase. And it was a perfect fit: the flowers fully filled the vase and all stood beautifully upright. You could enjoy both the flowers as well as the beautiful butterfly prints on the clear glass vase altogether. I added some ice cubes into the vase to keep the flowers fresh for longer.

I thought about all the shopping mailing lists I’m on for one of my email accounts and how this year, there seems to be more awareness about how triggering of a holiday Mother’s Day can be for some people. I’ve gotten at least four different emails asking if I’d like to opt out of Mother’s Day related emails and promotions; I don’t recall ever getting these before this year. Whether it’s because people have lost their mothers, have a difficult relationship with their mothers, or are actively trying to become a mother but have not yet succeeded, there’s a lot of reasons that Mother’s Day and the period around it can be a painful time. I’m fully aware of that since I was once in the shoes of someone who wanted to be a mom but hadn’t yet gotten there. And for my whole life, I’ve had a difficult relationship with my own mother… and still do. I see those who are struggling and their pain, even if they choose not to be open about it. I can fully relate.

New shoes, no interest — yet again

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Tonight, Chris had a consulting call around the time of our dinner, so while he went into the second bedroom to take the call while Pookster and I were eating, Kaia did her usual thing of getting upset that Daddy was closing the door on her and leaving us and started whining. I tried to distract her with things like crunchy roasted chickpeas and kiwi. It all worked for a while… until it was time to clean up, and she immediately made a beeline to the second bedroom to be reunited with Daddy.

I tried to lure her with a new pair of shoes I had saved for her during a big Stride Rite sale last year in her next shoe size. She’s been showing more interest (and opinion…) in what she wears, so I thought she’d get excited by new sneakers.

“Kaia!” I called. “Want to see your new shoes?”

It was like dog ears went up when you looked at her face and how she immediately turned to me and smiled.

“Yeah!” she responded immediately, and then I told her to come with me into our bedroom so she could look. She came running.

I let her open the box to unveil the new blue, turquoise, magenta, silver, and white velcro sneakers. She held them up and turned them around on all sides to admire them. I asked her if she liked them, to which she responded with a curt, “No!” with a high pitch at the end. I asked her if she wanted to put them on, and she got annoyed, “No, no, no, NO!” I tried to put a shoe on her foot, and she started yelling.

Okay, she didn’t consent. I shouldn’t push it. So I put the shoe back in the box (as she threw the second shoe) and let the shoes be, separate from Pookster.

So, my new theory is that she likes the idea of new shoes, new dresses, new clothes… but when it actually comes to putting them on the first time, it seems like it’s still going to be a struggle.

Okay, I can deal with this, sort of.

Tamarind date chutney

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I was looking at different ways to make our daily weekday toasts more interesting, and one way was to use Indian flavors (of course). Whenever you have Indian or Thai flavors, it’s pretty much impossible to have a boring meal. There is something about South and Southeast Asian cooking that always seems to get the right balance of sweet, salty, sour, and savory where things are just finger-licking good.

In the last couple of weeks, occasionally I’d make “masala grilled cheese,” where I’d take a white cheddar and sandwich it between chaat masala or garlic chutney-spiced mayo, some freshly made cilantro chutney, and sandwich them between two buttered pieces of bread on a hot pan. But then I got another idea, which is to make the sandwich a bit more like a chaat snack or samosa, so today, I added masala potatoes (first boiled, then sauteed), plus an additional layer of homemade tamarind-date chutney (made in my Instant Pot for the very first time this week – it was so quick!). I forgot how good the sweet-sourness of the tamarind date chutney really compliments all the savory and spicy of the cilantro chutney, gruyere cheese, and the potatoes. I made a decent-sized batch of the tamarind date chutney and froze half of it into cubes for future use.

I thought about my absolute favorite sandwich on earth, the classic mixed banh mi (banh mi thit nguoi), and how it also achieves the perfect balance of salty, savory, sweet, sour, and spicy, in the same way that this “samosa grilled cheese” sandwich does. While the bread on this grilled cheese provides crunch, in a banh mi, the crunchy raw pickled carrots and daikon also add crunch. Our family is lucky to identify with such delicious cultures!

Kaia “stocks up” on vegetables at So Kong Dong in Fort Lee, NJ

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Kaia is almost 2.5 years old, and knock on wood, she still enjoys her vegetables. She does not enjoy ALL vegetables (does any human?) and definitely has her favorites and her lesser liked and touched ones. She has strong preferences about vegetables being cooked (she hasn’t eaten any cucumber since before turning one and still refuses any type of salad) and does not like thick sauces on any vegetable (or protein, for that matter). And she also seems to know when she hasn’t had enough of them.

While at So Kong Dong in Fort Lee yesterday, as soon as our server brought an array of delicious banchan to our table, Kaia’s eyes immediately stopped on the little plate of lightly dressed and blanched sesame studded broccoli. She asked for it immediately and proceeded to eat two plates of it all by herself. It was almost as though she was “making up” for not having much veggies during our Pennsylvania long weekend trip. I’ve read that some toddlers actually do this subconsciously, but a lot of my colleagues and friends who also have toddler-age children (who hate vegetables) would beg to differ here.

Some of my colleagues, who occasionally watch my private Instagram stories, have jokingly accused me of “mom-shaming” by posting videos of my toddler happily and voraciously eating massive amounts of Chinese greens while they can barely get their kids to eat a single bite of any vegetable. All I have to say is: I’ve reinforced vegetables (and foods) of all shapes, colors, and sizes since her first bite of solid food when she was six months old; I have been really intentional about not sending her the message that vegetables are gross or lesser than her carbs or protein. I’m just doing my best as a parent. I can just hope that peer pressure doesn’t eventually take over and have her suddenly go on a vegetable strike or decide she hates vegetables.

My father-in-law cannot crack an egg

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We drove back to New York today, but of course, en route back from Harrisburg, we had to stop in New Jersey for a Costco run. While at the Wayne, New Jersey location, we bought no less than $400 worth of produce, meat, seafood, alcohol, and household supplies like toilet paper (how could you not?), baking soda (MY FAVE), and baby wipes. I even scored a much coveted tub of over 20 ounces of Maldon sea salt for only $7, which typically goes for over double that in the U.S. if you buy it online. Chris didn’t really understand what the big deal was, (“Do you really need that much salt?”), but when you know, you know.

As a final stop before we went back to our apartment, we went to Fort Lee to have some delicious soondubu jigae, spicy Korean tofu stew. I can’t even remember the last time I had eaten here was, maybe nine or ten years ago? But regardless, I was pretty excited. I got the medium spicy tofu stew and savored my rich, savory broth and the silky smoothness of the freshly made tofu (while Kaia made up for her lack of veggies over the last couple of days and went to town on the crunchy sesame broccoli banchan). And I also got a kick out of watching my father-in-law attempt to crack his raw egg into his stew bowl to enrich his broth.

Chris’s dad is a very intelligent person. He is educated, well traveled, knowledgable about history, the world, and people who don’t look like him. He has endless curiosity about things he learns he doesn’t know (and finds Wikipedia to be his best friend). But one area that his entire family teases him about is his… lack of common sense in doing seemingly basic things, like cracking an egg, knowing whether chicken is raw or cooked (he has legitimately eaten an entire meal of raw chicken that his wife had left on the counter to marinade… not realizing the meat was not cooked), eating with his hands, and anything really that is related to getting his hands dirty. I once talked about making things from scratch vs. a box, and he had a puzzled look on his face; Chris later explained and said, “He has no idea what “from a box” means!” Whenever any kind of meat is on the bone, he struggles to eat it unless he can neatly cut it off with a fork and knife. So when the eggs were presented and we explained they were raw and had to be cracked, dropped, and mixed into the stew, Chris’s dad got uncomfortable and gave a helpless look to his wife. Chris insisted that he crack the egg on his own. I then proceeded to record him on my phone to see if he would be successful. He tried to crack the egg weakly about three times before he finally gave up, gave another helpless look to his wife, and his wife conceded and just cracked the egg for him into his bowl.

It was a bit pitiful to watch, but pretty amusing. And now, I have it documented for rewatching forever!

Jamaican and Mexican food at Broad Street Market

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Before exploring a local independent bookshop and heading off to Gettysburg for the battleground tour, we spent the morning today at Broad Street Market in the heart of Harrisburg. The Broad Street Market has been around since 1860. During the Civil War, the farmers at the Broad Street Market helped feed the 300,000 Union soldiers who were staying at a nearby camp. Today, it has many vendors that serve meals all day long, as well as fresh produce and flowers.

Every time we have visited cities and towns less traveled to across the U.S., we have always been pleasantly surprised by the food. Broad Street Market was no different. Across the different vendors, I ended up choosing Porters House Jamaican Cuisine and Antojitos Mexicanos Yum Yum! At the Market. At the Jamaican stall, I chose a small plate of curry goat, rice and peas, sautéed cabbage, and sweet fried plantains, with a side of coco bread, a chicken patty, and a beef patty. At the Mexican stall, I ordered huevos rancheros, which came with not just the standard red salsa on top of the fried tortillas and eggs, but even a side of freshly made salsa verde. I couldn’t decide which dish I was more impressed by because both were so good. The huevos rancheros were better than some of the ones I’ve had in New York City: the tortillas managed to stay crunchy until the very last bite. The salsas were both bright and very spicy. The side of rice and beans they came with were addictive, clearly cooked in animal-based broth and/or fat. The Jamaican patties were both well spiced with some good heat, with a really flaky crust. And the curry goat was delicious, cooked the usual way with meat on the bone and chopped through the bone, making it a little unsafe for Kaia to eat, but enjoyable for me with the opportunity to suck bone marrow. Even the cabbage was delicious, well seasoned, and crunchy.

When I asked a friend who grew up in Pennsylvania what he recommended we do in Harrisburg, he said, “Nothing. Choose another destination.” But I would beg to differ: these are some of the most delicious Jamaican and Mexican dishes I’ve had. These meals themselves were worth a visit to Harrisburg.

Long weekend in Harrisburg, PA – Fun at Paulus Farm Market

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For our long weekend trip while Chris’s parents are in town, he chose Harrisburg, PA. Harrisburg is the state capital of Pennsylvania, but it’s also close to two major tourist sites — Hersey’s Chocolate World and Gettysburg, which is where Abraham Lincoln delivered his famous speech called the Gettysburg address during the Civil War. In addition, given it’s an area in the middle of Pennsylvania, I knew there would be a lot of farms and markets to potentially visit, which would be a good opportunity get Kaia out of her usual concrete jungle and be “one” with nature and the animals.

We spent some time this afternoon at Paulus Farm Market, which is part produce/flowers/fresh food market, and part animal farm. There’s a small admission fee to enter the animal and play area, so we paid an extra $2 to get a bag of vegetables to help Kaia feed the animals. There were a good number of animals at the farm, including different species of goats, chickens, cows, ducks, and pigs. Kaia was a little scared initially to feed the chickens, but when we got to the smaller pygmy goats, she finally warmed up to them, likely because they were smaller, and was happy to feed them lettuce. The farm also had this huge tractor that was converted into a tractor/tunnel slide that Kaia was very fascinated with. She loved sitting on the tractor seat and turning the steering wheel over and over.

I love watching Kaia with the animals. Her little sweet giggles after a goat snatches her offered piece of lettuce or her little jumps and squeals while feeding really warmed my heart. I especially loved it when the goat would take her food, and she’d immediately turn to me and ask, “More? More?!” Of course, a big reason we want to take her to places like Paulus Farm Market is so that she will have different experiences that are outdoors, but another reason is that I want her to be comfortable with animals and know where food really comes from. When you grow up in a city like San Francisco or New York where people mostly buy their food from the local grocery store, you are so far removed from the food production process that you don’t realize that real people actually have to work the land and feed the animals that ultimately contribute to what’s on your plate. I still remember when my cousin got mad once (as an adult) when he bought some green vegetable and found a dead bug in it. He was extremely angry and talked about how “dirty” the food was; he ended up throwing this produce away! I told him he was being insane: it should actually be a good sign when you see dead insects in your fresh produce because it probably means the produce was worth eating (for them), and perhaps even had less or no pesticides!

Kaia is already a relatively good little eater, but the more she understands about food, the more she will hopefully appreciate the world’s variety of food and be open to trying and eating even more things.

Meeting visiting colleagues in person

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It’s hard to believe, but it’s been over four years of working 100 percent remotely. The pandemic started here in New York in March 2020. I accepted my first 100 percent remote job in late August 2020, starting the last week of September that year. So for over four years, my face-to-face interaction with colleagues has been rare, mostly confined to “seeing” each other via Zoom rectangles on my external computer monitor. I adapted to it pretty quickly since I didn’t really have a choice back then, but to think that now it’s not my “new normal” but rather my “everyday normal” is a bit odd to admit out loud. It’s been over four years of not going into an office regularly, not doing work travel via plane regularly, and not having everyday, casual catch ups and small talk in person with work people.

So when my colleague who is based in Paris, France, told me that he would be here in New York for his wife’s work retreat this week and asked if I’d be free to meet, of course, I said yes. I blocked my calendar for this morning, hopped on the train like a wannabe daily New York City commuter, and took the subway downtown to meet him at Bourke Street Bakery, near where he’d have his next scheduled catch-up. I needed a place that a) had good coffee and b) decently okay-for-Manhattan seating so that I wouldn’t have to worry about fighting anyone for. a table. Bourke Street delivered on both.

I wasn’t sure what we would talk about or how we would get along, but I figured I could use the in-person socialization time since I get so little of it nowadays. We’d only been on two Zoom calls previously, almost completely just about work with very little small talk. We’d had a few Slack communications, and that was really it. But we actually got along pretty well, especially once we started talking about travel, different places in the world, and life in New York vs. Paris. He’s originally from the south of France in a small town near Cannes. His background before tech was quite eclectic and interesting (especially to me, ha): he used to live in Beijing working for a wine business in the mid 2000’s, left after 1.5 years, then came to New York to work in the restaurant industry; then he went back to Paris, worked in the restaurant industry again, and then somehow got suggested for a software sales job and never looked back. To this day, he still has many friends, mostly French, who work in the restaurant industry both here and in Paris, and thus has great connections to get the most sought-after restaurant reservations (he generously offered to show me and my family around next time I’m in Paris, and to get me hooked up with the best restaurant bookings). He gave me some tips for French restaurants in New York and also told me about some of the restaurants he had lined up for him and his wife to go to during their short stay here this time around. It was an hour that was enjoyable and well spent.

After we finished our coffee catch up, he walked me to the train station and we bid each other adieu. And on the short train ride home, I thought about how much I really miss these casual, non-work-related colleague catch-ups. I was really glad I didn’t make up some lame excuse and not meet him; laziness doesn’t have any benefits. Being alone in front of my computer most of the day can really suck. At least I can multi-task with things at home, which is a huge plus when you’ve got a little one in your life. But the social aspect of work is probably what I miss the most about pre-pandemic in-office life (the free printing and office supplies were also a huge bonus, too!). These types of daily social interaction used to be a part of my everyday routine, whether it was random conversation in the office kitchen or hallway, or during a coffee/tea break close to the office. The Zoom fatigue is real. It’s much harder to “connect” with people on a screen than it is face-to-face. Plus, I can’t really blame colleagues who don’t want to do “fun” catch-ups that frequently over Zoom. We would all rather it be in person, and who wants yet another Zoom meeting?!

Kaia and her doll Abbi

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For Christmas last year, Chris’s cousin Rob and his wife Abbi gifted Kaia her first doll: a brown-skinned cotton doll with a removable yellow dress with flowers, plus matching yellow shoes and pigtails also tied in yellow. Back then, I was touched by the doll: Kaia had a near-replica dress that I’d purchased for her in Kochi last summer in a mustard yellow color that could make the doll a mini-me to Kaia. We asked Chris’s parents to bring back the doll this visit so that Kaia could be reunited with her and “build a relationship” with her first and new doll Abbi. While Kaia has enjoyed getting acquainted with Abbi the last few days, she was not necessarily amused by the matching outfits of this morning.

For school today, I dressed Kaia in the mustard yellow dress. She marveled over her “new dress” and seemed to enjoy it once I zipped her up. But when I presented Abbi to her and told her that she was matching with Abbi with the same dresses, Kaia was immediately dismayed and started whining. “Take off Abbi dress! TAKE OFF ABBI DRESS!” Kaia demanded, whining nonstop. She tried to remove the dress on her own, but other than undoing the velcro in the back, she was unable to. So I helped her remove Abbi’s dress, and she proceeded to run around holding Abbi naked, just in her white underwear.

When Chris came back from his morning swim, I told him how Kaia didn’t want the two of them to match. He proceeded to put the dress back on Abbi, which Kaia seemed nonchalant about… until I announced that I wanted to take a photo of Kaia and Abbi together in their matching dresses. Kaia got very upset and started crying, yelling, “I don’t wanna take picture with her! I DON’T WANNA!”

I snapped some photos of Kaia and Abbi, anyway, and eventually Chris whisked Kaia off to school (not with Abbi, but with Peter Rabbit to comfort her). I later shared the picture privately on my Instagram Stories and tagged the actual Abbi. Abbi responded and said, “That’s not how I thought things would go in my head. Nothing ever works with kids!”

Weight loss: suggestions and inaction

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Chris’s brother had always been self-conscious about his appearance and weight. A number of years ago, he had a traumatic incident at work, which left him wounded and wanting to seek change. So he sought therapy, changed his diet abruptly, and started an intense workout regimen that resulted in him slimming down so much to the point where people didn’t even recognize him. We were all very proud of him and his journey, and it’s made me happy to see how dedicated he is to exercise and how he’s made it a daily habit.

He said he hoped, as I did, that his journey would have encouraged and even inspired his mother to do something similar, or at least, finally get to a gym and exercise regularly. His mom, for as long as I have known her, never stops talking about her weight; she’s always been extremely insecure about being “fat” and constantly complaining about how much food she eats with us. While she does go on leisurely walks, she’s never committed herself to a real workout regimen that is that rigorous. And unfortunately, Ben’s journey was not inspiration enough. So this year, Ben did research and found his mom a nearby gym that fit her general criteria, and she finally committed to going about 2-3 times per week in February. Though she’s said she can feel herself getting more tone, she has complained daily since they arrived about her weight, once again.

This morning, Chris served his parents breakfast made of foods that were leftover from previous meals that I had made, and his mom complained, saying she didn’t understand why he was feeding them so much food. “I just have to stop eating!” she exclaimed a number of times. “Eating just makes me gain weight!”

I lightly suggested to her that since she now has a gym membership, perhaps she can increase her gym sessions to meet a weight loss goal. She insisted back that exercise didn’t work for her, and she didn’t have time to go to the gym more often (I refrained from responding to that last bit, especially given she barely works part-time. And I doubt Chris heard her say this when she said it). “Exercise just doesn’t help me. I’ve been active my whole life and I lose no weight!”

“Active” her whole life… according to whom?

I didn’t want to let this go, though, without a response. As someone who has been exercising regularly her entire adult life and had an interesting journey to figure out what works and what doesn’t, I know what I am saying is correct. In general, I just don’t think her relationship with exercise is fully rooted in facts, nor does she recognize that exercise can actually be fun, as she keeps insisting she wants to “get it out of the way” first thing in the morning… which then means she misses out on classes, which she has always said she enjoys most. You can’t be that committed to something like exercise unless you enjoy it, so you can have it one way or the other: look at it as yet another “chore” and “get it out of the way,” or actually look forward to it like a class, which she claims to like. I told her that I didn’t think that her exercise was rigorous enough in that her heart rate was unlikely going up to a point where her body could burn fat properly. Heart rate matters, especially as you get older, and you need to be challenged. Rest times between exercises matter. Making sure things aren’t “too easy” matters. It is pretty much impossible for someone doing regular, rigorous exercise to see zero results.

She wasn’t thrilled with my response, as she insisted that even without the gym, she walked regularly; some people just can’t lose weight while others do very easily (well, this changes as we age. But I could tell she thinks that I lose weight just by clicking my fingers, but she has no idea how much work it actually takes every day, plus the willpower to get up so early every morning to make this a daily habit). But I pushed back and said that if walking doesn’t do anything for her from a weight loss standpoint, then it’s clear she’s not walking fast enough (power walking) to burn fat. I sent her a calculator to figure out what her heart rate has to be to be in the “fat burning” zone. I hope she takes a look at it and considers it.

She continued to say that Chris made them eat too much while here. And I suggested seriously that she go to the gym with me each morning while here if she was really that concerned about eating too much. She hesitated and said she only had leggings and no t-shirt. I suggested she borrow a t-shirt from Chris, which would be easy. And she said, “We’ll see.” I don’t want to push her, but I do want her to recognize, even a little, how impossible her attitude is towards weight and exercise.

The truth is that she can’t have it both ways: she can’t complain about all the food she’s eating, then when given the opportunity to exercise, refuse. She’s basically saying she wants to take no accountability for her actions, blame Chris and food, do no exercise, but still wants to lose weight, which makes no sense. It’s hard to have empathy when all suggestions and offers are rejected repeatedly. Everyone has to take their health into their own hands; no one is going to give you a magic pill to solve all your health woes. Eating relatively well and exercising regularly are an investment in your health, and it’s odd that so many people don’t seem to understand this.