Jul 11, 2009

The Women

Mommynallyandme

i love this picture. It symbolizes 3 generations of us women. Nally takes her place with us, as one that bears the same trait: she is strong, independent, and self-sufficient. She sits among us with the familiarity of " zhi ji ren" ( one of our own ), quiet, reflective, missing nothing, deep, profound, with a strong personal connection with God.
Hopefully, each generation gets better. We break the curses, we set new standards, we establish new norms. i always tell my fellow therapists -- i wish for her, her own dysfunction, none of my own, her own struggles and journeys not ones that attempt to complete mine. Her own dreams, her own marriage, none that resembles the sins and pain of my own.
So at the end of the day, i can say "Here is the number of my therapist, here is my recovery group, here is the nearest 12-step group, here is my God..... go on your own journey and knock yourself out."

Last Day with Family

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It's been a lovely weekend. i am struck by how easy it is to vacation with extended family. The divergent tensions that usually plagues enoch and i when we travel together is absent.
There is always someone to talk to, my grandma, my aunty, my mom.There is always someone to accompany my husband to do more the endless activities he wants to do.
i can disappear with people that are like me, people who want to nap, rest, retreat, reflect instead of negotiating constantly with my husband for down time, feeling like i am some freak of nature or an undutiful wife for not being more like-minded.
Still my husband found an opportunity everyday to disappear and get his "daily portion", albeit outside the sight of his kids. For that i am both grateful and grieved.
It's how vacations are suppose to be. Our therapist back in the states suggested that my husband and i spend a weekend by ourselves and the thought almost gave me a panic attack on the spot. But this, i can still enjoy him without having to be confined to him, locked down into silent, casual, shallow conversations without the kids as buffer.
Thank God for family.

Jul 10, 2009

The God who Sees

You tell me God
that every time my husband steps out of the house
every night when he is done from work
when he says " he'll be right back"
when he stays up till 2-3am in the morning
when he tells me that sake is not wine it's rice
or that he's at work when he intends to be at a party 2 hours later
when i get that sinking feeling
that helpless powerless feeling
of being lied to, abandoned and shamed
and being paralyzed by his free will
to do anything about it.
You see.
You've got my back
and i can laugh like my Al-anon group
i can throw away my wine-log
i can relinquish tracking his nights out
i can sleep during the hours that he is beside me as well as the hours he isn't
that when he is out of my sight
he is under Your scrutiny
and Your eyes miss nothing

It's all about shame God
Because i believe in you.
i believe that just like in Eyes Wide Shut, you can screw with him so that he will never enjoy a day of sin in his life.
It's shame God. It's the hysterical disbelief, that i never thought i'd see a day like this. That i can deal with the emotional distance, the isolation, the pain, but watching him make such ungodly choices makes me even doubt you God.
i deal with our pain with dignity and honor. Not like this.
Yet God you chastise me for my pride, you tell me that He is in your hands -- good hands. You tell me to pray each time i get that sinking feeling.
You tell me that your judgement, your wrath, your justice, your consequences are ones that would make mine look kind.
Yet your compassion, your love, you starry eyed belief in our goodness, extends to my husband too.
So God i surrender him to you.

The Great Divorce

Long ago when i was 15 i made a vow to God. That i would put on my left finger, a ring that would pledge my love to him.
In the romantic height of my youth, God has spoken to me and told me that " i was already married", i was His bride, His own, His chosen one, His cherished one. In the lonely nights in my room, when i prayed for my husband-to-be, as i struggled with being pure for Him, when i dared him to soothe the loneliness of my youth when i chose not to give myself to the affections of other guys -- He had told me i was already married.
Back then, i had bought a gold ring and i had put it on my finger and wore it till the day i got married. I was taken, I was his. It was the closest thing to a chastity vow. More than that, it was a pledge that He would be my first Love.
These days when i struggle with the grief of a marriage so far from the one that i prayed for in that room as a teenager -- i beg God for a way to get a Divorce that would please Him.
One that would release me, yet do right by my children. One that would give me back the dignity i feel that is taken from me -- by my husband's behavior. One that would restore my dreams, my innocence, my teenage starry eyed belief in love and marriage.
The woman's curse: " She will turn to her husband". She will turn to her husband and believe that somehow, he is the one that would save her from her own demons, rescue her, give her worth and dignity.
Yesterday, as i tossed and turned trying to nap. God gave me permission. He said that when i get home, i get to take my wedding ring off.
i get to renounce this marriage as the norm, as ok, as something my daughter should be used to for her life and her man.As something i would pass down to the next generation. i get to say " It's not ok" for her and for all the women struggling in their marriages.
But i get to put that wedding ring of ours --the one i wore as a teenager back on. It is such the perfect symbol. i want to honor my vows, i want to believe again.
But putting my faith in man is a sure dunk. All of me knows that and i am too smart to go there.
But us again. Me and God -- who has been going through quietly our own divorce as i rage at him with my own disillusionments and pain. It's time i came home.
Along with the ring -- came i a song i wrote at 15.
And as i return to it today --- it speaks so differently. It's about Hosea and how he bought his wife back over and over again as she prostituted herself.

" Father God, you turned and looked her in the eyes
You called her beautiful.
You called her your bride.
This same love, i've mocked it time and time again
i've been unfaithful
as you cried in silent pain.

i see the Mary Magdelene in me
the naked shame
the condemnation
misery
i see the love of her life my Lord in you
You loved her then
Today you're loving me

Lover of Prostitutes
May i be
One day found faithful
as you've been to me
grant me the worthiness, grant me the love
to one day call you husband
my love

i can hear God saying softly " welcome home"

Wisdom From Home

After months of counsel from therapists, recovery groups and the latest psychology theory -- it's lovely to be home amidst the wisdom of the ages.
i told my mother, there is something lovely about being counseled in Chinese.
Something about my grandmother's " nia, nia ting ma ma de hua" ( Nia ( my pet name -- listen to grandma" and the sweet softness of my aunty's voice that now has a strength i had never sensed before -- that silences my rage and calms me. My mother thinks it's because i cannot "arg ( argue ) " in mandarin.
I spent the afternoon, pouring out little portions of my soul to my mother's sister, who is much more soft spoken than my mother, We often wondered at how similar she is to the rest of us --- i have been known to look more like her, yet how different she is. Since time in memorial, she is so much more gentle, "refined", submissive, traditional, "uncool"( to my sister in our teenage years ), and less articulate in English. She's always sprouted Chinese proverbs, making her words understated, so refined. Unlike the brash, straightforward confrontational stance that is signature of my mother and i.
But yesterday, as i listened carefully to her words, i realize this is not a woman who has experienced little. Her words resonate with the same anguish of being "shut out", not listened to, the same frustration of being married to a social, extroverted husband who spends hours out of the home, and is the youngest spiritual baby in the family. Hers is the prized son-in-law among my grandmother's children. Uncle LF knows how to "zho lang" be a good person, he is thoughtful with food and visits to my grandmother.
But words from all across the seas ring with the same familiarity as ones that God is whispering to my heart back home.
Hold steady.
You have to be strong.
You have to hold the fort.
The kids are most important.
Pray.
Pray so that your spirit man speaks to his spirit man.
You can do it.
You can do it. The latter one she says with confidence and strength.
Somehow, in the absence of the American feminism, the in-wielding vow to independence and personal rights, their exhortation resonates differently.
She is so much older than i. She has been angry, frustrated, anguished. i have so many years ahead of me, -- do i learn this lesson now and embrace it or continue to the fight for all women kind?
" Submit" she says, somehow, in Chinese, it slips under the radar of my feminist guard. It sounds much more acceptable and almost enticing.
"Submit to God, to your plight, to the will of God"
" Do the will of God, the righteousness of God in the situation"
i looked at her, and i know that that petite, frail, delicate frame has done her share of raging.
Do i want to give up fighting now or do what she's learnt to do, come to terms, live her own life, choose the "love that covers a multitude of sins " and find solace in God.
i sense the difference. She is less run down, less anxiety driven, less helpless, less frail.
i sense a new strength, a strong unwieldingness.
Somehow, on the other side of the world, it seems less shameful to surrender.

The way my daughter thinks

Nally2

When catching her fingering a bunch of Singaporean coins.
" Nally, you remember what i told you about money. It is the dirtiest thing in the world, it's like holding everyone's germs in your hands "
" It's ok mommy, i washed the coins. Remember the time we washed the pennies ? " ( Referring to an experiment of what solution polishes pennies best )
" uh... good idea"

When hugging her father when he came back from lunch.
" Daddy drank, mommy"
Of which i retorted " I didn't send her"

Grandma: " So nally what do you think do you think you'll take a nap today ? "
Nally: " i'll think about it"

To Aidan while discussing a bartar.
" Well, you have several options, you can take your coins and buy me things. i like bracelets and earrings, and necklaces. You can buy one of those and trade"

My grandmother

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My grandmother joined us on this weekend trip and it's so precious to have her. At 80, she is lucid and mobile. Every year i wonder if it's the last time i'll see her. She strikes such a chord in my heart because she was my primary care giver my first year of life.
She just lost her maid of 12 years so i spent most of my time listening to her tell me how much she missed her, how the new maid falls so short and i am tickled again at the culture of maids in this country.
She listened to me rant and rave about my marriage, my in-laws and my despise of rich people -- the latter of which she secretly shares with me but refuses to admit. She quotes me scripture and coaxes me to "close one eye".
My professor is right, there are somethings you would only heed from the mouth of 80 year olds.
But it's so lovely to see her with the kids, to spend this weekend with her and to enjoy the later years of her life.

Pool Splashes

It is only logical to go from the beach to the pool. The stickiness of the sand and sun even enticed me in the water. This same person whom my daughter asked one day " Mom can you swim? i have never seen you in the pool".
The resort's pool is this beautiful, modern, spartan design against a gorgeous water fall, the kids could not get enough of the slide. I brought my grandmother down to watch them.
These are the moments i really appreciate my husband as a father.

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Sand Castles

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It was a perfect day at the beach, one of the few places my children can spend hours at. My parents took them just before the sun came out, and they played in the shade for hours before it got really hot.
For a moment, i forgot i was in Singapore. i never spent any of my childhood on sand, a phenomenon i can't decide is due to my native fear of the sun, or my parent's inability to relax on the beach.
Ironically, they spend many of their retired mornings on the beach now, on walks after breakfast. Here is my father constructing an elaborate sun castle with this expensive castle building set, he splurged on the grandchildren.

Jul 08, 2009

My Defender

i've set new rules around drinking in our house. Pleaded on the kids behalf; that i did not want them growing up thinking that drinking is a norm. For all our disagreements, enoch and i agreed on that one.
While i am proud of myself, it still does not relieve me of the edgy anxiety that descends whenever my husband is at a meal, or is gone for longer than he needs to be on an errand or is out late at night. i had finally broken down and told 2 of his closest male buddies of my concerns, one of which i have basically come to see as synonymous with drinking.
This trip on the flight, he asked for 2 mini-bottles of wine and i reminded him again of his promise to not drink in front of the kids. To his credit, he honored his promise albeit drinking a Sapporo.
Instead i got to watch a lady a seat away down 4 of those bottles and gradually let down her Japanesian guard flirting unabashly with French guy who then turned around and asked for my email.
i got way too much pleasure telling my husband of this observation.
This past Sunday, God spoke so clearly through my pastor about my recent angst and struggles in marriage. He brought up the story of Abraham and his wife and how he could not tell the truth and tell the people that it was his wife and lied that it was his sister.
We have had issues around integrity and honesty lately. And i have been grieving about a spouse that could not be as forthcoming as i had assumed.
But Pastor Paul just caught my heart when he said " Even if your husband does not stand up for you, God will. And he would do so even with non-Christians ( like Abraham )" i was moved to tears. God will stand up for me. God will defend and vindicate me, even if i have a husband who won't.
He also said, that faith and fear run in different directions. And that nothing good happens when we act out of fear.
Wonderful gems to chew on. And so when i watched my husband pack up those 2 wine bottles only to have to turn them in un-open at security, i told God i was going to watch and see Him defend me, instead of myself -- this trip in Singapore.
Touche.

Things to Do in Singapore ( for Tania )

1. Get my freckles laser-ed away
2. Work out at the gym and on the vibrating flabber-buster ( 30 minutes daily )
3. Buy Enid Blytons for Nally
4. Buy Chinese books for Nally's Chinese Reading list.
5.Get a mouth guard
6. Get prescription sunglasses
7. Ethnic wraps
8. Indian belly dancing costume for Nally
9. Write 1st chapter of novel and proposal.
10. Finish reading for Fall class
11. Upload updates for personal website
12. Get a massage
13. Get my jaw adjusted by a local chiropractor
14. Get Chinese audio books for Nally
15. Get Chinese piano books for Nally

Energizer Bunnies

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The kids are having a ball in Singapore.

i don't know how they do it, they wake up at 3am and they go for the next 12 hours with no sign of jetlag.
This morning they woke up at 3am and i thought i'd capitalize on the morning hours ( or predawn ) and do some homeschooling. So we did Chinese spelling with Nally, pages of her Chinese holiday homework, Aidan plowed through 6 pages of 1st grade Math and drew feverishly in anticipation of his Pokemon toy he earned.
i was so pleased i went back to sleep. The kids stayed up.
When i woke up at 8am, they had apparently gone out had breakfast with my parents at 5.30, gone out with them to a hawker center for their breakfast, played soccer on the beach, and was running around the house. Apparently they had played scissors-paper-stone with gong gong and Nally had grilled them about why there were so many high-rise buildings in Singapore and the prevalence of "Afro-american crows".
My parents are commenting on how much easier it is this time round. 5 and 7 have got to be the perfect age to travel to Singapore, although i remember them being much more high maintenance on local vacation. They are delighted to be with my parents who seem to take great pride in planning secret rendevous with them while enoch and i sleep. They are on their best behavior putting to rest my fears about them regressing and acting out with their grandparents ( confirming my theory that my children act differently to the expectations of their company ). My parents are model mirror-ers, validators, teachers, play therapists, Winnicottian mothers.
The kids are old enough to absorb everything: wet markets, touching the eyes of fresh fishes, eating mangoes the size of half their heads, fresh lychees with seeds as small as your eyes, the pool downstairs ( this time unsupervised because they are water safe. Aidan watched a soccer match in an indoor soccer facility yesterday.
It's wonderful.
Today we leave for Sentosa, an offshore island that is a cable-car ride away. You would think we would be leaving for what Nally calls " a different country". i am reminded of how momentous every step of travel is for my family and how different it is from the spontaneous, whirl of the moment, weekend/week away that my husband has established as a norm for his family.
But overall, this vacation threatens to be relaxing and i am relieved.

Disappointment

When i did childhood development with Axelman my favorite child professor at SCU, he used to describe disappointment as a developmental stage. He talks about feeling the entirety of disappointment and the ability to do so dependent on a consistent source of comfort. If you "did it right", you would have internalized that comforting source and hence develop the ability to self-soothe.
One of the biggest hurdles in enoch and i's marriage is the inability for both of us to be disappointed, to express our disappointment, to risk not being received and comforted by the other person, the inability to process that grief ourselves and our resorting to anger, to disengagement and disassociation.
Today i had a chance to catch that nuance with Nally and Aidan. Nally came by and said " Mommy, Aidan hit me again, he hit me in the vagina" and i walked over to see a jumping boy on a trampoline flinging kicks in the air. i told him " i told you aidan if you hit nally again we're taking away your Pokemon fingerines " and for 5 minutes i watched my son process disappointment.
Remorse is a hard one for Aidan and i suspect for all men. His lack of it hits Nally hard. Everyday i watch what happens between me and enoch reoccur -- " sorry nally" he says glibly, and the girl is still wrecked with tears. i execute consequences, i take away things but getting to him is really hard. And it doesn't comfort Nally at all to see him "get away with an apology".
But today, i noticed a part of his lip tremble as the rest of him put on a brave, indifferent and smiling face.
The Pokemon figurines were a big deal yesterday. i had went into an animation store and found a great deal here in singapore and we have been pawning each one off for Math and Chinese homework.
He had stayed up last night working through 5 pages of Math looking forward to getting one in the morning.
So i took him in my arms and asked him in a quiet voice " Aidan, why did you hit Nally ? Were you just playing ? "
and i watched my glib, nonchalant son's face crumble and the most heart-wrenching tears come out.
He sobbed and nodded and wept so fervently, even Nally came over and tried to comfort him. " When i feel really sorry, i cry until i can't say anything too".
i told him, it was ok. That he needed to make a card and think about 3 things to do other than hitting his sister.
He was sorry, he was remorseful, justice was executed and most important of all, i got a chance to help my son process grief and disappointment. Version 2.0's got to be better than the first.
NB. On a side note, i am reminded of a piece of truth that i exchanged with a colleague during a peer supervision consult : that we can only own our wrong when we feel safe. Something to think about when i try to"invoke remorse"with my spouse. If only we can be as good partners as we are therapists.

Visiting Singapore

Ontheplane

Day 1 on our month-long trip to Singapore.
My usual hermit-like tendencies have given me cold feet the weeks coming up to my departure.
How would i survive without all my usual rituals -- my Monday night with the girls, my therapist, my gym, my coffee machine, my prayer walks out in the Baylands -- i started getting nervous and anxious joking about how i wanted to pack my therapist in my suitcase.
But the kids' excitement were contagious. Nally has been counting down on her calendar for months now. Aidan kept saying " Are we going to a different country now ? " They packed their little carry-ons, Nally wept about leaving her lovie behind ( so we took her) we said bye to every part of the house.
The kids have traveled to Singapore since Nally was 6 months old. Aidan has been here since he was a year old. With memories of packing strollers, and Bumbos, clip-ons and diapers, feeding bibs and elaborate games on planes -- i am so struck by how different it is traveling with them all grown up.
After years of balloons and crayons and $1 toys, all we had to "arm" ourselves against 17 hours on the plane were 3 itouchs loaded with 40 hours of Electric Company and WonderPets. Audio books like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Little House on the Prairie. They had all their forbidden toys like the Digi and the LeapFrog hand helds.
They were angels. Granted i got the privilege of being across the aisle one seat away from them. But i was fighting the guilt reminding myself of all those times i had travelled with both by myself.
We even did some Chinese Spelling on board.
But even as i brace myself for the heat and the months of structureless, purposeless living -- i am reminded again of why i come. The kids are ecstatic.
They love the window seat, they pore over the emergency guides, they watch the screen showing the landing, they love the movies on board. They ask " Does Singapore have a president too ? "
and most of all they are all over Mama and Gong Gong when they come.
Perhaps it's because of all my fears, it isn't as bad as i thought.
Today the heat is bearable and the kids are independent enough they found things to do all night long while enoch and i slept with the help of sleeping pills. They didn't sleep one wink till 12pm the next day, swimming, jumping up on trampolines, standing on jiggling massage toys, eating at hawker centers.
Finally i got them centered enough to do some chinese homework and learning software and true enough that got them settled enough to nap.
They are still sleeping as i speak.
And i am marveling at how different experiencing Singapore is going to be with older kids.

Visiting Singapore

Day 1 on our month-long trip to Singapore.
My usual hermit-like tendencies have given me cold feet the weeks coming up to my departure.
How would i survive without all my usual rituals -- my Monday night with the girls, my therapist, my gym, my coffee machine, my prayer walks out in the Baylands -- i started getting nervous and anxious joking about how i wanted to pack my therapist in my suitcase.
But the kids' excitement were contagious. Nally has been counting down on her calendar for months now. Aidan kept saying " Are we going to a different country now ? " They packed their little carry-ons, Nally wept about leaving her lovie behind ( so we took her) we said bye to every part of the house.
The kids have traveled to Singapore since Nally was 6 months old. Aidan has been here since he was a year old. With memories of packing strollers, and Bumbos, clip-ons and diapers, feeding bibs and elaborate games on planes -- i am so struck by how different it is traveling with them all grown up.
After years of balloons and crayons and $1 toys, all we had to "arm" ourselves against 17 hours on the plane were 3 itouchs loaded with 40 hours of Electric Company and WonderPets. Audio books like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Little House on the Prairie. They had all their forbidden toys like the Digi and the LeapFrog hand helds.
They were angels. Granted i got the privilege of being across the aisle one seat away from them. But i was fighting the guilt reminding myself of all those times i had travelled with both by myself.
We even did some Chinese Spelling on board.
But even as i brace myself for the heat and the months of structureless, purposeless living -- i am reminded again of why i come. The kids are ecstatic.
They love the window seat, they pore over the emergency guides, they watch the screen showing the landing, they love the movies on board. They ask " Does Singapore have a president too ? "
and most of all they are all over Mama and Gong Gong when they come.
Perhaps it's because of all my fears, it isn't as bad as i thought.
Today the heat is bearable and the kids are independent enough they found things to do all night long while enoch and i slept with the help of sleeping pills. They didn't sleep one wink till 12pm the next day, swimming, jumping up on trampolines, standing on jiggling massage toys, eating at hawker centers.
Finally i got them centered enough to do some chinese homework and learning software and true enough that got them settled enough to nap.
They are still sleeping as i speak.
And i am marveling at how different experiencing Singapore is going to be with older kids.

Jul 07, 2009

A Good Candidate for Practice

Not asking questions.
Part of the reason why i love what i do as a psychotherapist, is that i am doing my work all the time.
PTI where i do my mirror training resonates with my whole work, my personal work, my soul work.
Today in Singapore, i get the monthly supervision newsletter and it talks about why as therapists we shouldn't ask questions. It is such a different stance from all of the other training that i get at school about asking the right question and crafting the right response.
Instead, it talks about:

M y e x p e r i e n c e h a s b e e n t h a t a
psychotherapeutically committed person will
use almost anything the therapist does or says
to stay in and deepen his work: questions,
demands, grunts, sighs, storytelling…
whatever, even with a novice counselor.
But when a semi - commi t t ed , noncommitted,
or novice client connects with
a beginning practitioner, the client is often
wrenched away from his process by an eager
but misplaced invitation to stop having an
experience and to talk-about it instead.

“Wanting something” and “needing
something” from the client both qualify as
countertransference. Therefore it follows
that should you ask someone, “What is your
name?” and want or need that person to tell
you the truth, or indeed to respond to your
question at all—that’s countertransference.
It may sound a bit nit-picky, but if you have
a preference that the question get answered,
but you’re okay if it does and you’re okay if it
doesn’t, then you’re not countertransferred.
Likewise, if you feel annoyed when the
person doesn’t answer or if you feel good
when they do, then you’re countertransferred.
A n d f o r m o s t b e g i n n i n g t h e ra p i s t s ,
countertransference is the #1 obstacle to
increased competence.

One of the things that enoch and i struggle with is his inability to respond, to questions, to my statements, to my expressions, my confessions, my apologies, my baring of my soul.
He says nothing. He is silent. i feel so abandoned in it, i rage. He leaves.
This article strikes such a chord in me. And i figured, even if i don't get a soulmate our of this marriage, at least i would get a really good candidate to practice this principle of non-attachment to answers.

Jul 04, 2009

Happy Birthday 7th year old

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Nally's birthday this year -- was especially elaborate. Not so much craft-wise eg. the European Nightcrawlers from last year but i thought after 6 years of serving the standard fare, i changed the menu.
So today we served
4 kinds of pizza:sun-dried tomato basil and chicken with feta
pear walnut and gorgonzola
cheese ( for the kids )
portabella mushroom and caramelized onions with gorgonzola

caesar salad
peach, watermelon and strawberry salad
watermelon sushibean salad
yellow rice
chicken and beef satay with peanut sauce
plums and strawberries
popcorn and chips
balsamic onions wrapped in bacon
It was crazy busy. Especially since i also had 3 crafts for the kids. The lava lamp oil water concoction, the bouncing balloon and a little flag made out of graham crackers and twizzlers. Especially since i ran around trying to find pop rocks to match the pop theme of the party and we had to reopen 20 goodie bags to re-insert them. Nally said " mom i have never seen you so stressed before".
It was worth it, the party was a different level of classy and the guests were so charmed. An old guest from every year came and said " Gosh i wondered if we were in the right place"
The best part of it all, was we rented a cotton candy machine at Nally's request and it was such a big hit with the kids. Everyone even adults were eating cotton candy. It was a sea of pink fuzz and just the perfect thing for 4th July.The kids swam and played and ate. i finally stopped fussing and relaxed and enjoyed it.No matter how many parties we throw, this one always ends up being the most elaborate.
We went to 2 parties after cleaning up after ours and then watched the fireworks at 9pm. Nally said " This was the best day."
i guess it was worth it all
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Jun 30, 2009

Nally's final piano lesson

Nally's final piano lesson had her crying under the piano. i thought the lesson went really well. She played the best she'd ever. The teacher was actually pretty animated and encouraging. And i was just thinking wow, maybe this would work out after all.
Then across the room i hear, " Why are you crying? " and she started bawling. The same unstoppable, wrecking tears that made me look like i was abusing her at Goldstar. She wouldn't stop. And the teacher had never seen the likes of anything like her.
We finally left and my child begged me not to send her back. She said the teacher spoke too fast and yelled at her when she played it wrong. She talked to 2 friends on the phone like a teenager. i made her process it with other peers.
Finally i gave her all the options: This teacher's little 2nd grade daughter ( who was very good ), Teacher Martin ( Peery Music school. Great but excruciatingly slow ), or me.
Surprisingly she chose me. " Why can we learn at home mommy ? " And so i made her promise to focus more, no whining and no wet noodles at the piano otherwise we are coming right back. And she promised, has been practicing by herself and have been making great progress at the piano.
i guess it was worth spending that money for her to appreciate me more after all ; )

Aidan's graduation

Aidan's graduation was over the top. The teachers went crazy. It was grander than Nally's. They made gowns, they framed certificates. They took pictures with each child. They had a slide show with each child, they made videos, organized a potluck, had each child at a table with a place mat. It was incredible. To top it all, the class had written to Obama and he wrote back 2 days before graduation. So the whole class spent 30 minutes taking picture with the letter, signed picture and envelope.
Congratulations Aidan, can't believe you will be in kindergarten!
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Aidan's Soccer Camp

The kid loves soccer. Got a glowing report for his final day at camp and tickled everyone with his little victory dance and obvious disappointment every time he missed the goal. My fears about him being smaller was in vain because they matched his size and it turned out his focus and sportsmanship surpassed his age. Enoch got to watch him and it was so rewarding he wanted to sign the kid up for the second week. But it was lovely to see him out in the field, running, focussed, loving the sport. Must be Gong gong's blood
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Coach's comments: We have been really impressed with your ability this week. For your age we have not seen many kids with your ability. In goal you are superb and you also score a lot of goals. Remember when shooting try to use your laces. You have really been excellent this week. Great Job. Coach Mike and Coach Jack.