Random thoughts

A good friend said in today’s email to me that she’d like to be like me, “outgoing, outspoken, tireless, never giving up … a go-getter.” It’s funny, many think of me as a go-getter, while I never find much drive in myself, which is why I am really nowhere in life whereas most of my peers are already at top management positions in their careers. Two possibilities (perhaps among many more): (1) I have few and specific ambitions, which are really quite irrational/out-of-this-worldly, too bohemian, so I set my heart to those crazy things. (2) I am really incapable in the things I do/did, which is why I have to exert so much determination and energy, out of sheer desperation. These two possibilities are not necessarily mutually exclusive.

I wish I could admire myself and envy my situation, as some people do. That btw is NOT vanity, it’s about being content and grateful for what God has showered upon a person. Alas, I still look at some people and wonder why someone could be so happy, why some couples are so lovey-dovey . . .

I want to be there for you

When I see some characteristics in you that clearly are inherited from me, and I’d rather you not have them, my heart just love you even more. I want to be there for you when you need empathy, sympathy and help. Remember, I understand what you will be going through . . .

Cry Freedom

When I embarked on the pursuit of the last (hopefully) degree of my life, I never thought that more than 2 years after I’m done, I am still not able to be freed from what tortured me for so many years before. These days, everytime I open my email, I have this nervous foreboding of my advisor/co-authors asking me to do this or that. Frankly, I don’t care a bit about having my name in print in some journal. While I still believe that some research can do good to humanity, I have no illusion that mine is really of any benefit to anyone, except that perhaps my co-authors can increase their chances of academic honor or job security. I really want out. When will I be truly Ph-inally Done????

Knowing that you are blessed

A pastor once said in a sermon that many people have many complaints about their lives, but when asked if they want to switch their lives with someone else, they’d rather not. Years ago, I learned a song in music class and I still have some memory of the lyrics and melody: I am travelling on, along the way, I meet strangers and friends, who talk with me . . . they tell me all about (something about toils and misery) . . . and I tell them, ‘life’s not so bad.’ “

I am always nervous when I have to drive to somewhere that’s more than an hour away, especially into any of the boroughs of NYC (I decided never to drive in Manhattan again though). Last night, I was all strung up thinking about my trip to church today. It dawned on me that much as I complain, I actually love life and want to be alive and well, because there’s so much in my life that I cherish and want to live on to relish. And, yes, even responsibilities that I joyfully want to shoulder.

As I write (blog?), I got all “literary” … ahem, so I shall quote from one of my favorite novels: “But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid? . . . The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become.//Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights . . . and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.//What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?”

Papa’s name

Xuanie knows his papa’s name. When he overheard me mentioning B.’s name, he went “Papa!” I asked him who’s S. and he went, “Papa Mama.” The “error” is probably from trying to switch from “Papa” – physiologically, many sounds are still impossible for him, and he can’t yet do anything beyond single syllable words.

Language acquisition

My Swedish pronunciation must be really bad, for even Xuanie who does not yet speak any Swedish, breaks into uncontrollable giggles when I say “jatte gott” as we read one of his Swedish story books.

I worry if Xuanie will speak Mandarin well. Many signs tell me he understands Mandarin. However, most of his first words are in English. Where did he get them from?!! Sometimes, when I try to coax him to say something in Mandarin, he does translation for me, e.g. “chong” but he always tells me it’s “bug.”

Research has shown that babies who are exposed to more than one language tend to be slower in acquiring any language, but they soon catch up and surpass their monolingual peers in linguistic abilities. Xuanie has his share of linguistic mix-up. For e.g., he used to always point to his butt and makes an “ehnnn” sound as if he’s pushing something out whenever he saw a waterfall and heard me saying “pu bu” (cf “poo-poo”).

 

 

 

To be like a goose

My best friend once told me that I need to learn to just let things slide, literally, like water being poured on a goose. The water just slides down the coat of feathers, and the goose is not in the least bit affected nor fazed.

Sometimes, I get to work with people who are really “intense.” Maybe that’s the way to be successful, to be clear what you want, and be sure you get it. Times like these, I appreciate the advice about the goose. It’s also humility perhaps, to let the other person have his/her way, especially since most things are infinitesimally insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Thanks, my dear goosey friend!

Little learner

Today, I explained to Little X. at length how and why he should not disturb me when I am making dinner. As a demonstration of having understood, he nodded many times, and started shoving me towards the kitchen.

He is such a “little-adult.” Another time, as he was sitting in bed reading, I asked if he wanted some milk. He gave no response so I asked again. He didn’t even look at me but simply waved his hand asking me to go away and pointed to the door, nodding his head at the same time. It’s as if he was saying, “OK, just go get it if you want me to drink some milk, don’t disturb my reading.”

Cars

Little Xuanie loves cars. He used to like big trucks and buses when he was young. Now, it’s all about cars. He sees cars in everything. Once he was reading a Thomas the Train book. Of all the fascinating trains, he noticed one little car half hidden in some garage, occupying perhaps only 1/1000 of the page we were on.

If I were to record all the words he produces each day, “car” would emerge top in frequency. Once, I got so tired of hearing the same word over and over, so I spoke to him sternly not to keep saying that word. He looked at him sincerely, nodded, and, spurted out “CAR!” A few days ago, he accidentally said “car” when he meant “nai nai” when he wanted to nurse. He caught himself and smiled awkwardly before switching to say “nai nai.”

Of course, do I even need to say that he has watched the movie “Cars” at least a thousand time?

Stay-home mom

One job interview tomorrow. Not pinning much hope on any positive outcome. Have seen too many rejections from organizations like this one; don’t think they appreciate people with my kind of educational background.

I kind of enjoy being a stay-home mom. I got offered a job when Little Xuanie was only 2 weeks old. My heart sank thinking of how I would not be able to spend time with him 24/7. I looked at him, a tiny little package, and wished I could turn down the offer. That job was an experience, in many ways. At the very least, it took away all the 35 pounds I put on in pregnancy, and more; actually, it turned me into some anorexic-looking weakling. Many women would kill to look like what I looked like then. 

I used to say not a day passed without my wishing to go get a job. But now, maybe because I don’t need to attend to the big baby in the family, I am totally enjoying life with my little baby. I am thankful that the big baby provides enough for me and I don’t feel financially in need. When I read the blogs of some other people that I “stalk,” I read about their luxurious lifestyle (cf mine), and all the expensive things that they can afford. Frankly, I couldn’t care a little bit. The Bohemian in me does not care for much frills. I am thankful to God that I can afford healthy food and that I now live in a nice little apartment 5 times bigger than the prison-cell-sized room I lived in for ages.

So, if the big baby ever reads my blog, I want to say, “Thank you”