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This is really part II to the Imagery Work episode.

Aidan has left a LOT of stuff behind at school.

Around Christmas time, he ran out of jackets here in the morning for school. When I took him to school that morning, I found FIVE jackets, all hanging on hooks by his classroom. FIVE. Mrs. S must have thought we were/are a bunch of morons- the jackets, fortunately, unfortunately, were all properly labeled.

Earlier this week, we got a message from school that Aidan needed to bring in some emergency supplies- never mind that his school year is about to end in about 35 days. Whatever. The instructions said something about a bag that was send home with more specifics last week. Well, I found a bag in his backpack, but the bag had no instructions. So I just shoved a bunch of supplies, that I felt would be necessary for an emergency, in this plastic bag and had Aidan take it to school. Two days later, his Chinese school teacher told me that she found a bag that had been sitting around Chinese school for days, about this emergency supply request.

I dread to think what else we might still be missing...

Imagery Work

As a working mother, I like my life. I like my work, and I like my kids, and most days, I like being a mother.

However, there are definitely short falls to this life. Mainly, I don't pick Aidan up from kindergarten. Aidan is in kindergarten until about lunch time, then he gets whisked away to go to Chinese school. I like this arrangement: He gets to learn Chinese, something he doesn't get at home, AND, I don't have to worry about his afternoon activities. On the other hand, because I am not there to supervise this transition, I don't know what the teacher is handing out, what this child is stuffing in his backpack, and most importantly, what he is NOT stuffing in his backpack.

Whenever Hubby's schedule allows him to, he will go pick Aidan up from Chinese school and do some special guy activity- mainly, going to the bookstore to practice reading and get a new book. (It is hard to do with Zoe in tow, one mouth is really only capable of reading one story at a time, after all.) On Tuesdays, Aidan gets picked up by Grandpa to go to Kumon to work on his math and reading skills. (I know, I know, it sounds like Aidan is doing a lot, and yes, he is doing a lot, but he is doing them beautifully, with time to play and he still gets his 11 hours of sleep nightly.)

With these nice people picking him up from Chinese school, I then don't get to supervise that transition: What is going in his backpack, what is NOT going in his backpack...

Overall, Aidan is pretty good about his stuff, according to his Chinese school head teacher, who has two kids of her own, and has been supervising lots of children over the years. Still, he is a kindergartner, after all.

For the last two Tuesdays, I met him at Kumon, as he was packing up his bags, I peeked in his backpack, and I didn't see his homework folder. "Sweet boy, where is your homework?" Two Tuesdays ago, it was, "Oops. I left it at Chinese school." Then we drove back to Chinese school, he hopped out to the car, ran inside, couldn't find his folder, came back, with tears streaming down his sweet face, "The Jewish people took them!" (He shares the space with a Hebrew school...) Rest assured, the Jewish folks were not interested in his homework- his teacher had set them aside. Yesterday, I was supervising the stuffing of the backpack, "Sweet child, where is your homework folder?" "Hmm, I don't know, I didn't find it at Chinese school, I bet it is in the van." DRATS. On the way back, I told him, "My sweet, sweet Aidan, I love you. But chasing your homework down makes me want to poke my eyes out and throw them on the ground, and them stomp on them. You gotta remember them."

We went back to Chinese school, found the head teacher, she went to the huge van they use for pickups, Aidan looked all over, and there. was. no. homework. folder.

On the way home, we decided to do some imagery work. He closed his eyes, and we tried to retrace his steps. Alas, it was totally blank between when he got his homework folder (he could say it was the purple one!) and how he got in the van. "Why didn't you stuff it in your backpack?" "It was full of stuff already, Mommy." "Aidan, you just always gotta stuff it in. Doesn't matter how you do it, Just. Stuff. It. In."

Then we practiced. "Ok, Aidan, close your eyes. Imagine. Mrs. S. gives you your folder, you hold it in your right hand. You want outside, what do you see?" "People." "Ok, you wait for your turn. You get to your backpack. You stuff it in. You check: Snack pack. Lunch pack. Homework folder. Whatever-else-Mrs. S.-gave you. Jacket. Zip up. Go with your Chinese school teacher."

Then he said, "Mommy, you forget your stuff too!" I told him, "Of course, but it is SO painful." Then I told him about how I went to a violin lesson, and FORGOT my VIOLIN.

Spring Break 2010

In another 12 years, Aidan will probably be flying off to the Keys for spring break, leaving the rest of us in the dust, but for his first spring break as a school aged kid, we took him to DC.

My parents moved out to DC last year for my father to pastor a Chinese church there. Of course, they had been asking us to visit. We opted to not go in the winter- as Californians, these children do not own real winter clothing and probably never will. The idea of buying proper winter gear to deal with snow, was not something I could do, thus, spring seemed like a great time to visit.

And it was great! My sister and her husband met up with us, and the kids thoroughly enjoyed seeing so much of my family. I noticed a few things on this trip.

1. I am becoming more and more like my mother. We are really the same, and that probably contributed to my career choice... We are both rather opinionated, strong willed, stubborn, and let me just say, as an adolescent, it wasn't very fun. As a mother now, I get a big kick out of it!

2. I definitely do not have my parents to thank for, in terms of my house keeping skills. My parents love people, they love to read, they love to do lots of things, but they do not love to clean. My cleaning skills came from Martha Stewart, for sure. As a kid, my mother let the dirty dishes PILE UP, I mean, a sink FULL of dirty dishes. Instead of washing dishes, she was discipling others, studying the Bible, and making sure we behaved. Not that I loved living with a sinkful of nasty dishes, but I could see her point. These days, I must, MUST, clean the kitchen before attending to other things, the pendulum probably has swung too far, but well, hopefully, Aidan and Zoe can get it right.

3. I am becoming friends with my parents. It has taken 30+ years, but I am friends with these people now. It is refreshing, actually, to be able to say, "I rather not, Mom." And not get all wrapped about, "Why does she want me to do this?!" For instance, my parents really, REALLY want to see Aidan and Zoe wear more clothes. Truth be told, I wouldn't mind seeing Aidan wear more clothes either. However, I also know that Aidan and Zoe do know to ask for more clothes when they really are cold- rare occasions, but these times do exist. Thus, when my mother tells me, "Aren't they cold? Get some clothes on them!" I just say, "Mom, I think they are fine. I rather not fight about it with them." I must be growing up!

As for DC, it was an interesting experience. I learned these things about it.

1. DC blocks are very, VERY, long. Unlike Manhattan blocks, these blocks are the sized for giants. Actually, I think they are sized to accommodate these behemoth government buildings. Which then lead to my next question: What are people doing in all these humongous buildings?! As someone who thinks government has gotten too large, (to which my sister immediately asked, "Are you a REPUBLICAN?!" Well, I guess, if this is the breaking point, I am...) it was irksome to drag my kids along these very, very, very long marches.

2. The DC Metro is not like the NYC Subway, where one could walk from one stop to the next stop in about 2 minutes. The DC Metro is really in between the Subway and MetroNorth of NYC.

3. The DC roadways are absolutely crazy. Having lived in some major cities: LA, SF, and NYC, I think I can say, that the roads in our nation's capitol make no sense. I blame our getting lost experiences on the streets, not my navigational skills.

4. Having made points 1-3, I think it is safe to conclude that we find vacationing in Manhattan much more relaxing than DC, strangely.

As for Aidan and Zoe, I think their list would be like this.

1. We had to do SO much, SO MUCH, walking.
2. The National Zoo was awesome. We saw the guy panda. The girl panda was pregnant and apparently, could not tolerate visitors.
3. We got to chew, and swallow, a lot of gum.
4. We got to eat fruit snacks! Pao-Pao (Grandma) thought they were actual fruit!
5. It was weird going to bed so late- our weird parents decided to keep us on pacific standard time.
6. The National Air and Space Museum was pretty cool. We got to eat a huge McDonald's frozen yogurt there.
7. The Bureau of Engraving and Printing was ok. They sell money for a lot of money.
8. The National Museum of Natural History was great. We got to see the Hope Diamond, and some old dinosaur bones.
9. The National Portraits Gallery was cool. Zoe got to take a picture with the portrait of Pocahontas. And we almost got arrested by the police there.
10. Tyson Corners is a very big shopping center. We got to see "How to Train Your Dragon" and eat sushi in the middle of the mall.
11. We went to Alexandria, where Mommy had gone about 2 years ago for her friend, K, who was getting married. It was nice to go with her and have her show us the things that she wanted to show us back then.
12. We got to feed horses at Fort Myer! We met these very, very, big horses who belong to the military. They really like apples. We are jealous, because Mommy's friend, K, who has a new baby, lives about 2 miles from it, and will probably get to go feed horses all the time.
13. We had fun catching up with A and N, Mommy and Daddy's friends' girls. Unfortunately, we weren't behaving well, and Zoe kept spilling her yogurt...
14. Pao-Pao, and Gung-Gung, really likes to keep their house super, super warm. We could run around in our shorts!
15. It was awesome to be able to drink Sprite on the airplane! And watch TV at Pao-Pao and Gung-Gung's house: They have cable, like 200 channels.

As for me, I got to stop by a special, shiny, store, and took advantage of the low sales tax of Virginia, and came home with a shiny something to mark our 10 years of marriage.

A great trip, indeed.

BYOS

Hubby came back from a business trip on Thursday night, and he didn't look so good. This morning, he staggered out of bed to entertain A&Z so that I could sleep in, by the time I got up to eat breakfast with them, he really didn't look so good.

So I sent him to bed.

We met up for lunch, hung out together, and then, I was sent to bed. After an hour, I was, in fact, human again. (The newish version of Disney's Beauty and the Beast has a new song: To Be Human Again. It is now our theme song, to be sung after naps, meals, baths. It is good stuff!)

Anyway, I woke up and said, "Let's go get some ramen for dinner." So we did.

We went to a local ramen joint, one that opens at 5:30 but has a line forming at 5:10. (Yes, I fully realize how ridiculous it is to go stand in line for ramen, but this is really tasty ramen.) There were a few other families there as well, and I love eating in an establishment where lots of families go: Even if my children are loud and annoying, there will be other loud and annoying children to share the blame.

When we sat down, though, I realized these four other families were not at all like us. They all came with a LOT of their own stuff: booster seats, plastic covers for the tables, all kinds of containers for their kids, and even, a pair of SCISSORS to cut up food!

I remember the days when we used to bring stuff with us to restaurants. Aidan was our only child, and we brought a catch-all bib, his own booster seat, little containers of cut up food. When Zoe came along, we stopped bringing these things for Aidan, because he turned three and well, we had other supplies to bring with us, like diapers. When Zoe could sit and eat with us, we still didn't bring all this with us. We got lazy, and followed the benign neglect model of parenting: You can eat from a restaurant high chair, and you will eat whatever is there, don't lick the table, because this mother cannot be bothered with all that accoutrement, and if you don't lick the table, she won't need to cover the table.

On the other hand, I loved going places with these ultra prepared parents: They always had extra wipes for me to use, extra clothing for me to borrow, and I could be totally lazy.

There, I said it out loud, we parent via the lazy way.

Sunday Evening

Sunday evening is a time when I get myself organized for the week. It mainly involves returning phone messages, messages left for me after about 4 pm on Friday. Usually, my patients are surprised that I call on Sunday evenings. I don't do it for them, I do it for myself: it is less stressful than to wait until Monday. Typically, I get about 15 messages per day, and about 1/3 of that is about medication refills, 1/3 for new patients, and 1/3 for random stuff, like switching appointments, concerns of medication side effects...etc. I try to get through the med refill requests in between patients, and I save the rest for when I can actually converse. Not that I am all that great at conversing over the phone... I do have AT&T, after all. When will the coverage be better? (When I switch to a different plan, probably.)

Sunday evening is also a time that Hubby and I catch up on random stuff around here, like paying taxes. I have been griping about taxes for a very, very long time. When I was growing up, I remember my parents being upset every November and April, because of property tax. My Dad also dreaded the credit card bill in January- apparently, my parents bought all kinds of stuff for us when we get home for vacation- clothes, books, food, plane tickets...etc, by the time the bill arrived, we were already back in school, and so it was hard to pay this bill without seeing the kids. Anyway, now I know their pain. (Although they are no longer in this pain- all three of us are grown, they no longer pay tuition, clothes, or food for us. Or at least that is what I think, if my siblings are free loading, I need to hunt them down and get some tips about how-to-free-load.)

It is hard to pay taxes. I just don't want to pay taxes. Regardless what I hear about in the debate about health care, immigration, and education, I still don't want to pay taxes.

In regards to health care, of course, I want everyone to have access to care. However, someone has to pay, and frankly, I don't want to pay more. I was talking to another parent from Aidan's class, and Anna, a French citizen, told me about how copays are always 1 Euro for all French people for all medical appointments. That sounds AWESOME. Who wouldn't want that? She was saying how charging people differently because of what insurance you have or don't have is ridiculous. Yes, it is ridiculous. But we are Americans! We want choices! We could buy milk at Costco for $2 a gallon, but lots of us want to buy milk at Whole Foods for $6!

Fundamentally, we want choices. We want innovations. I am afraid, in my completely unprofessional opinion, that universal anything is contradictory to the fundamental beliefs of the Founders. (Not that I know what the Founders really wanted...) What I would take though, is this: If I didn't have to accrue medical school education debt, than I would happily make less money. If I could get my education for free, sure, I will take a pay cut. It would be so nice, to not have this debt: I will still be paying for my education after we are done paying for Aidan and Zoe's college tuition. Take that away, and fine, reduce my reimbursements.

As for the educational system, Anna said that universities in France charge an annual tuition of 325 Euros. That would be so awesome.

Maybe I need to move to France. But you know what? I can't. Immigration to this land of cheese (and I hate cheese), is very, very difficult. I don't know how difficult, but people I know who want to move to anywhere in Europe always complain about the process. I guess we won't be moving there anytime soon.

Canada, however, would be a different story. We can move there to open a business! (Say, a cheese making business?) And get cheap insurance! Cheap education! In my Amerocentric thinking though, the Canadians are not the people who innovate! I mean, Google, Yahoo, Apple, those are all American companies! Why? Because people need incentives, when you are paying so much in taxes, why bother? Just sit and collect your entitlements. (I am thinking that is the better way to go.) To discredit myself, AT&T is also American... and its coverage is poor.

Essentially, we have to ask ourselves: Do we want to be innovators (and thus, the free market has to be FREE to grow), or do we want to be like 'those people', who collect entitlements.

(By the way, I feel unauthentic until I admit this part: My grandparents, all four of them, never paid taxes here, yet all came here and collected social security, medicare, and who knows what else. I am part of the problem.)

10 Years

10 years ago, I married my best friend. It was an awesome day.

We had met when I was 17, and I had an idea about the kind of person I would marry. Exactly what was the idea? I was not entirely clear, but when we met, he didn't seem like the type of person I would marry.

I dated a guy whom I thought would be the kind of person I would marry, and thankfully, I realized the error of my thinking during summer break from school. I had then prayed and asked for God to help me, to be more discerning, and that the next guy I would date would be the one I will marry.

Well, I then had a crush on another guy and had desperately waited for him to call. (I am not sure why I thought he would call, he clearly had no interest, whatsoever.)

During all this, I had a dependable and good guy friend, who listened to me go on and on and on about the above two guys. He came over to help me with physics, stopped by my dorm to walk to Bible study together, told me jokes. But I thought he was sort of dating some other girl.

Then I went to Michigan for the summer. Let's be clear about Ann Arbor: It is a place that one ought to bring one's own friends for the summer. My dependable and good male friend wrote me every week (I guess neither of us had reliable internet access that summer, this was 1996, after all.) I looked forward to his letters- they were about nothing, yet absolutely hilarious and encouraging. (And, I found out he was not, in fact, dating this other woman.)

When school started back, it was clear, I was smitten. But was he? How would one find out? Of course! One would convince a girl friend to find out for her! I sneakily finagled this good and dependable guy friend to take me out on a date. I will go on "official record" (if one thinks my blog is an official record...) and say, at the conclusion of this date, I knew he was the one, in October of 1996.

It took three years for us to get engaged, not a day too late, and not a day too early, and I found myself loving him more with each passing day. God's timing was perfect. We married 6 months later. To this day, he is my good, dependable, nice, hilarious, encouraging, best friend.

These 10 years went by so fast: we accumulated educational debt, got ourselves into some real estate debt, and had children, aka debt makers. It has been a path illuminated by God's faithfulness and goodness. We have been happy recipients of his mercy.

I think the next 10 years will go by even faster. Aidan will be 16, Zoe will be 13, and we will be in our 40's. We will probably have more debt- we are Americans, after all. However, I also know that this marriage works because Jesus had already paid the ultimate price for us.

Happy Anniversary, Hubby!

Siblings

It is really hard to believe that I have two kids. Two potty trained kids. Two kids who no longer need naps. I mean, they might as well go off to college tomorrow. I just can't fathom how quickly the last 6 years have gone.

Meanwhile, as we say good bye to the physically exhausting stage of nighttime wakings and butt cleanings, we are now on to the emotionally exhausting phase, a phase that will only conclude itself when I die. When they were little, I often told Hubby that I am going to be great at this: after all, I do this for a living. However, I am also reminded that psychiatrists usually have really weird kids, thus, only time will tell if I am doing them a service or dis-service.

Just yesterday morning, I was putting away laundry, picking up random stuff, and cleaning up, I heard the happy sounds of siblings getting along and playing together. Not even a breath later, there was screaming from Zoe, and groaning from Aidan. Because my goal was to have a quiet, relaxing morning, I marched over and demanded: "What is going on?" They stared at me with their cute eyes, and no one said a word! I asked again, "What happened?" Still, silence. (These kids ought to work as spies.) By the third time, I was seriously getting annoyed, "You need to tell me what happened. This is NOT OKAY!" (I probably use the phrase, "This is NOT OKAY!" so frequently, that I now hear my kids say that to each other.) Still, silence. I then said, "Alright, being loud and rude to each other like this IS NOT OKAY! Both of you, out of this room." I hadn't really meant for them to go to time out, but they put themselves in their respective spots. A few minutes later, I made them apologize to each other, and sent them back to their room to 'work it out.'

Anyway, Aidan said that Zoe was taking his puppy, and Zoe said that Aidan was not letting her use the puppy. I suggested to Zoe to ask nicely before just taking it, and before I even finished my sentence, Aidan was working it out with her, "Zoe, here, you can take this puppy."

At moments like that, I am so proud of them, that they are capable of working things out, but whom am I kidding? They are really just learning to manipulate each other. Ahhh, the gift having a sibling.