Inspiration

I am inspired. My friend, over here, is an amazing hostess. I have eaten quite a few fancy meals at her house- A Chinese New Year party, Aidan's first Easter, a Day After Thanksgiving Feast, and many others. I once invited them over for dinner at our house... and I forgot all about it. We left the house. When they came over to eat, they found a dark and empty house instead. They still left us a beautiful plant, and a kind note, "Hmm, we are on today, right?!"

Last night, while I pondered what our family should do for New Year's, I finagled an invitation to her party. Woohoo!

Coincidentally, I had know her husband since 7th grade, theoretically. We were in the same orchestra, but for the life of me, I have no recollection of him, WHATSOEVER. I think I was in the "boys are disgusting and to be hated" phase of life.

Anyway, they are inspiring in their gift of hospitality. They love through the service of comfort, food, and fun.

I want to be like that.

When I was in college, I secretly got myself a college mom. I was this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed 17 year old, eager to get straight A's, excited to be free, and most of all, desperate to find out what I was suppose to be. C gave me a job- playing the piano at the Protestant worship service. It was THE BEST paying gig, EVER. As church going kid since age four weeks, I had played for all kinds of worship services, and never got a dime. Yet C paid me for something I would do anyway, and the best part of the job? I got to talk to her and pray with her, be prayed for by her, for 1/2 hour before every Sunday worship. I don't think she knew I was making her my college mom, but I did! (She also reads this blog! See, she is like my mother.) Anyway, another crazy thing C did for me was to hire me to baby-sit her boys. These angelic boys did not need a sitter, so it was the best kind of baby-sitting job- I got to read her Martha Stewart cookbooks after the boys went to bed. She also hired me to help at her annual Christmas party. Those parties are CRAZY! All these professors (100+ of them) from the colleges floated through, they were wined, dined, and it was so cool to see MY professors having fun! There were these meatballs that she served in a chafing dish, I was very, very, impressed. She also had this amazing collection of mugs and plates. I don't think she ever used paper products at those parties- it was all the real stuff!

I want to be like that.

So I am going to try to have a party at our house. And I think I need to get down to business and send out an evite tonight, before I regret it. This is a good New Year's resolution, don't you think? To serve, to love, and to comfort, and most of all, to have fun!

Leave me a note here or FB or talk to me, if you want to come to this bash.

Getting Ready for 2011

I think, 2010 has been the most whirlwind year of my life.

This past week, has been the most whirlwind week of my year. It has been insane. INSANE. I want to get ready for 2011- but everything/everyone is proving to be resistant to my goal.

I kicked off Christmas week with a cold. The source of the cold was Zoe. I should have known better than to let her kiss me, but those lips! They are so sweet, and how long will my little girl want to kiss me? Not very long. I can already feel some teenage angst in her, and so, I take what I can get. What I got, was devil-incarnate: the rhinovirus. When one is self employed, one keeps working even with a sickness. One does not cancel the day unless one is hooked up to IV fluids AND hospitalized. I offered hand sanitizers to all my patients, I tried to not cough on them, and I advised them to not touch the door knob.

Then we went to Tahoe on Christmas Day, I was congested, coughy, sneezy, and not very pleasant. And probably completely disgusting. But no, such situation was not going to stop me from learning how to ski double black diamond slopes.

We had enrolled A&Z in the Squaw Kids ski school- HELLO! Just take my money, why don't you? I love it when you charge me $290 for 3 hours of GROUP ski instruction. Aidan BETTER be skiing black diamonds soon... Anyway, Hubby and I took lessons from Jason, a very nice young man who has been skiing since he was 9 years old. Then we got a call that Zoe was refusing to actually put on her skis. Alright... My goal of becoming an Olympian was quickly dimming. Jason, however, was quite a trooper. He offered to pick Zoe up and just take her with us. So we did! Zoe loved being on the slopes with Jason- who wouldn't? They guy is a ninja on skis.


The next day, we went back for more instruction with Jason. (Did I mention that I suck at skiing? The first time I went skiing was with Hubby's business school friends- I cried on the slopes, it sucked so badly! The second time was with Bible study friends the year before Aidan was born. I seriously, seriously sucked. I can turn right like an Olympian, but turning left was nearly impossible. Do you know what happens when you keep going to the right? Eventually, you are at the edge of the slope...) Anyway, with Jason, I felt much more comfortable with turning left. Even though my calves were quickly building up lactic acid and were about to quit. Which, actually, were not the muscles that I should have been using... (You understand that things are about to get very, very bad.) We had to leave our lesson early because we needed to pick up the kids from ski school- why do kiddie lessons end before adult lessons is something I do not understand. Instead of taking the cable car down the MOUNTAIN, we thought we would go on Mountain Run. For those of you who are familiar with Squaw, you can see where this is going.

While Jason very cheerfully said we could totally manage, I think, he only said that because he didn't know that my muscles were about to curl up into a ball. Hubby and I stuck together, and we were actually doing quite well. I was doing a phenomenal job pizza-wedging my whole way down. But I was getting tired, time was running out. I fell, and I was tired. The idea of leaving our poor kids stranded at ski school was not appealing, and to demonstrate what a fantastic mother I am, I told Hubby to leave me and go ahead without me. (WHAT?! Was I insane? I blame it on the cold medicines, the lack of proper oxygenation of my frontal lobes, clearly, I wasn't thinking straight.) Hubby found me a woman who was teaching her friend how to ski, and we were moving about the same pace and so Heather agreed to look out for me and help me. You do remember that I suck at skiing, right? Very soon, it became obvious that it was going to take me a loooonnng time to get down, if I would ever get down. Also, I wasn't really thinking anymore, so I also told Heather to go ahead without me.

There I was, in the middle of the slopes, with this beautiful blue sky overhead, and I was on my back, skis on, wondering how on earth was I going to get out of this. The village was no where to be seen, I actually wasn't even sure if it was really there. I was completely stuck. I thought I could take off my skis and just walk down, or up, to catch the cable car. Or I could just stay here until they close and ski patrol can pick me up then. Or I could pray. Obviously, to pray was a far superior option. I prayed for two things: that God would send me an angel, preferably Angel Jason to help me down, that God would send me a snow mobile to give me a lift. Please, God, choose option A or B. Something.

Then I decided to keep going, while I waited for God to do something. So I got back up, skied/rolled/stored ice inside my jacket as I threw myself down the hill. I thought my left anterior cruciate ligament was going to be snapped in half. As painful as it was, I was getting down the mountain pretty fast! Woohoo! Then I had ALL this snow inside my jacket, and I decided to stop and take care of that first.

Then I heard, "M! Is that you? I thought it was you, because of your bright goggles!" Oh MY GOD. God sent me Angel Jason! Of all the slopes out there, God had taken Jason down THIS slope, the easiest of the bunch, even though he had all these options! And that Hubby had bought me this goggle with a bright, floral, yellow/pink band! Jason side stepped up the hill to where I was, and got me back up. We skied for a bit, and I was actually doing ok, although the calves were dead. Then, OH MY GOD! God sent me a snow mobile! The snow mobile went by, and I told Jason, that I think I needed a lift, because I was simply too tired to finish. He chased down the snow mobile, and I got a ride with Rob.

Hubby was ecstatic to see me at the bottom- he had A&Z with him, and they had actually already found a table and ordered lunch. It took me, THAT LONG.

I was, and still am, so incredulously amazed by how much God loves me, how he answers mundane prayers, how he rescues, that indeed, ALL things work together for His purpose. While I was perfectly ok waiting for 4:30, the time when ski patrol starts to look for lost people (I had asked Jason specifically about this the day before), but He didn't want me to wait that long, He didn't want Hubby and A&Z to worry, and He provided exactly what I needed.

It was the most wonderful Christmas lesson ever: That He came, to be one of us, and to love us, with this never ending, all the time, consistent, love. Thank you, Jesus.

With this lesson freshly on my mind, does it matter that I am utterly unprepared for 2011? Does it matter that these little people God has given me to love are constantly in my way of 'self actualization'? I mean, Jesus has already done that for me!

I am going to relax, think of His love for ME, and revel in the joy of that love.

Oh, by the way, this blog is going to be different in 2011. I am going to talk about work less- with all these search engines in place, I am increasingly paranoid that a patient will find this blog and read about him/herself. I am, however, going to talk about things that matter, like A&Z, the Gospel, God's never ending, always, and forever love.

That is NOT what I said

I am sure this is a common problem: People saying you said something, but in reality, why on earth would you ever say that?

Aidan and Zoe do that sometimes, "Mommy, you said we could...etc." Seriously, child, this mother would never say you can play as much iPhone game, watch as much TV, eat as much candy, as you want. This mommy may make you drink until you vomit when you start high school, but that time has not come yet.

For work, sometimes patients say stuff like that, and while I know I never said that, it does still make me feel kind of bad, like I intentionally deceived them or something. There is no point arguing about "I didn't say that. Why would I? That is just not my practice." Nonetheless, I feel like a lame, lame, person.

And now, I probably should go search my ratings on all these physician rating websites. Which, by the way, I think they are WAY lame.

What to know what else is lame? Garbage cans on the street. Our county is switching over to a new system: we are going to have three bins, for recycling (no sorting), garbage, and compost. The cans need to be lined up in a particular way on the street, against the curb. Well, that is fine and dandy, however, can you imagine the traffic by the elementary school on garbage collection days? All the curbs are busy! Full of cans! No where to park! Kids are too young to be dropped off at the circle! Where can we leave the cars?! (Luckily, Hubby drops off on Wednesdays, and that is garbage day, and his car is smaller, so he has better luck, or at least, this isn't really my problem.)

As for the three cans, I have other concerns too. Now that we can mix papers and cans and stuff, which is less work, but do I need to rinse out all the cans? That seems like a big waste of water in our drought prone state. However, if I don't, then the cat food juice will probably get on the papers, and doesn't that ruin paper recyclables? As for the compost, we will be tossing food scrapes and all in it. And I am just waiting for the raccoons to come by, knock over the cans, eat my food, get stronger, and make more babies. I mean, all this food won't be wrapped in plastic, which possibly limits the smell of the food? Or is this really just a theoretical worry of mine?

Possibly, the garbage system I grew up with in Taiwan is the best- because you all know Taiwan is such a clean place... The garbage truck came daily, and it played a very specific song, blasting, really. All the housewives, upon hearing the song, would dash out with their garbage. My working mother usually brought down a grocery bagful of garbage and just leaned it against the front door in the morning. A family of five made just one grocery bagful of garbage a day, really kind of amazing, isn't? We really buy too much and throw away too much here.

Quick Dinner

We enjoyed a very delicious dinner tonight. In case you are interested, here is MY recipe.

Heat up a stockpot, add a bit of olive oil, say 1 tbsp.
Chop up one medium onion, stir it a bit to brown.
Get a package of Italian sausage (I prefer the uncooked kind), cut sausages into bit sized pieces directly into the pot with kitchen scissors. Stir that for a bit.
Then, toss in a box of the precut butternut squash, I use the kind from Costco, so it is one pound of squash. Stir that some more. Add 28 ounces of diced tomatoes. Add about 40 ounces of water. And some chicken stock, enough to cover. Simmer that for about 20 minutes. 8 minutes before dinner time, toss in one bag of egg noodles, I think it is 10 ounces. Cook for 6-8 minutes, per package instruction. Sprinkle some parsley and oregano on top.

Yummers!

I can imagine, for you cheese eaters, that if you have some kind of cheese rind, I think parmasan reggiano, toss that in with your stock and let it simmer will probably add more flavor. Since I don't eat cheese, I really have no idea.

Also, I didn't add salt or pepper. I figured canned tomatoes, sausage...etc, all come with plenty of salt, so I skip that.

Enjoy.

Thanksgiving 2010

I will admit this readily, I am yearning for Thanksgivings of yore. Back to the days when I could spend all day cooking, without interruptions. The days when I shopped in the early hours of Friday and then napped luxuriously. The days without little people interrupting my conversations.

It is true, from time to time, I don't enjoy my kids very much. Ok, ok. I will be honest, a lot of times, I don't enjoy them at all.

The last hour may be one of those times. I don't know what it is, but these kids of ours, really, REALLY, like to be with us. Just go read a book by yourself, please! Go play with all these toys in the house! By. Your. Self!

I just want to complete something, ANYTHING!

Our Thanksgiving was lovely. I baked in peace the night before, and only had to cook a few side dishes in the afternoon as Honey Baked Ham had prepared our ham and turkey. (It was so much better than what I could have done!) The company was lovely, some family, a friend from Bible Study, and four new friends! These new friends had graciously played Monopoly with Aidan, and Aidan and Zoe got to run amok with their cousins. It was good.

There were rough patches on Friday, but we endured. We almost got stranded because Hubby's car key nearly broke in half. (The keys are 14 years old, and one had already broken in half- half of the key is still in the trunk key hole...) We made it home, had more friends over on Friday night, and fun was had by all also. But today, oh today, what happened to today?! While we met up with some college friends of ours, these children made it difficult to converse. Basically, they were being kids, but I was done being a parent.

Seriously, I am done with parenting. This forced volunteerism is over-rated and I have put in over seven years of my youth, and I am peetering out.

Oh yes, these kids are cute. Oh yes, I see that God is working in me, but really, I need Jesus to come soon.

I want to switch shoes with Zoe, I just want to hang upside down for a while.



I know, that the day when they will isolate themselves in their fortresses and I will yearn for the days when they clutched to my legs. However, I am also marveling the beauty of my mother's technique: as far back as I can remember, nearly every time I went to ask her to play with me, or to complain that I am bored, she gave me some kind of work to do. The kind of work that really made me want to just fly under the radar- like practicing Chinese handwriting, copying the multiplication table...etc. She also made me practice the piano and the violin, and all those hours were hours she had time to do stuff for herself, (I think, I can't be sure since well, I was in the piano room by myself.) It is truly a very smart system. I am enrolling Aidan and Zoe for piano lessons as soon as I can arrange it. Not just because it is time for them to jump on the train of music training, but that this mother needs some time to herself.

Trust Me Part II

I am trying to teach the kids to trust me, to know that I really do know more than they do, that I, in fact, want them to be happy. They don't usually believe me when I say so.

When we went to our church retreat, Aidan and Zoe were absolutely ecstatic about the bunk bed in our room. They built a fort, they climbed up and down, they played puppies, it was fun for all. Then, the next morning, Aidan started to beg to return to the room to play on his bunk bed, instead of going to the well-organized-and-very-fun program for kids. He begged, and begged and BEGGED. As I listened to his incessant demands about something that is so lame in comparison to the great fun he will really have with his friends and teachers, I thought about how I really don't trust my Heavenly Father.

"But Jesus, I really, really, really, want to go to an Ivy League medical school. I think it will be so good for me to do that. I really, really, really, want to date this guy, I mean, he is SO cute! I know he doesn't care about knowing you, but c'mon, have you seen how CUTE he is? Jesus, I really want to buy THIS house. Why can't you make that happen?" Meanwhile, Jesus is patiently waiting for me to see that I am wanting to play in the mud when He has an amazing playground for me.

I think, Jesus is always telling me, "My sweet daughter, trust me. I know what is good for you. I love you. I have died for you. I will not withhold anything that is good for you. I will give you what you need, what is good for you."

Similarly, A&Z can now parrot back to me, "Mommy, I trust you to know what is good for me." For now, anyway.

Trust Me Part I

I have lots of ideas for posts. Often, I am chauffering someone, somewhere, and I think, "This would be a fun subject to write about." But alas, by the end of the day, when I am done putting dinner away, bedding the children, returning phone calls, I just want to sit with my sweet Hubby and not be looking at a computer. Maybe Blogger will figure out some kind of voice recognition blogging device.

What are you missing? You must be wondering. For one, you are missing a good story about how I almost ran over the father of one of Aidan's classmates... (In order to get Aidan to school, I slug through traffic of 3 schools: our neighborhood school, the middle school, and finally, Aidan's school. The said father was on his bike, trying to cross a four lane street by the middle school, and I was trying to get Aidan to school on time. I slammed on the brakes at the cross walk, THEN he got on his bike and crossed the street. I didn't actually, almost, ran him over. However, as the whole car continued to move forward with the inertia, and all the bags fell onto the floor, Aidan said, "Hey! That is E's dad!")

What have I been doing, while not blogging, is setting up our our family trust. It is something we have been told to do, for a very, very, long time. When I started my private practice and bought my own life insurance, I was told to do this. Well, we didn't! (We had a will, no trust, from looonnng time ago.) Then our accountant got on our case, and I still procrastinated. It still truly bugs me, that I have to spend money on an attorney, to avoid probate costs, because attorneys made up the rules?! Seriously?! I should have gone to law school! But alas, the idea that A&Z could be in limbo with no milk money was sad enough to make us do it.

For our local friends, if you want a rec, Kimberley is great. She came to our house, for starters. (Although I am sure she charged us for coming to our house, but whatever, she came at NIGHT.)

The road to having a trust is long and arduous and obnoxious and annoying, even with a great estate attorney like Kimberley. We had to pick guardians, and backup guardians. We love these people, but we shudder to think of their complicated lives should we die prematurely. It is problematic, as we all have/will have at least two kids, that if we die, S&A could be parenting FOUR kids. FOUR. And our back up couple could have FIVE kids! Did I say that we love them?

Then there was the need to figure out how to give A&Z money. I tried to set it up so that I could control them from the grave, but Hubby talked me out of it. There was also this weird decision, that if all of us died, what do we want to do with the money? Do we want to give the money to our siblings? What if they died, do we want to give the money to our nieces/nephews? At what age? What if they are still very young? Seriously, too many choices.

There is also the stuff about what to do with my body if I become incapacitated. Everyone, I am game for being an organ donor, but definitely, not to be used for research, academics, or "therapy." Whatever that may be.

The "fun" part of the estate, is that we get to write letters to people to clarify this and that, to help people not to have hurt feelings. However, I think our letters to people will essentially be: "If you don't like this, suck it up. Too bad." I think it is nice that I get to tell people off from the grave.

I am so very, very, happy to say, that our trust is signed. There is just this obnoxiously tedious process of putting stuff in the trust...

By the way, did you know your life insurance policy (if greater than one million) is going to be taxed? I think most parents have a policy of at least that much, and just think, the government wants about 1/2 of it. So that your kids can starve. (Of course, our estate attorney devised some way to reduce such risks, of piling things in different piles...) Kimberley said, "You will always get taxed, whether income, gift, estate, or capital gains." Trust me, you need to get a trust in place.