Mindspace

Disneyland

Day One
i am at Disneyland after a week of dread and pre-anxiety, i am thrilled to report it isn't as bad as i imagined.
Well first, it turns out i am only going for 1 out of the 3 days instead of 2 days. i get to stay in, in a little hotel on the strip with a presentable room. i get to walk to Downtown Disney on my time, blog, journal, finish my website.
Enoch bought me a watch, which is his sweet gesture of appreciation i know for me being here.
i tried to drive part of the way, which i am proud of. After whining, dreading, agonizing about this trip for the last week, i came finally determined to be in the present and be open to what could.
i realize like my daughter, i dread new experiences, unpredictability, the lack of safe havens, comfort objects, routine and structure. It takes forever to " get used to " things/ people. My favorite response to any invitation my husband proposes is " NO! ".
Like Nally, i am learning to protest new experiences, grieve and let it go. Find a bit of this vacation that i can enjoy, make meaningful for me.

Day Two

Day 2 at Disneyland. It's the day i promised to join them. It actually wasn't a bad day. If i didn't walk around imagining that somehow i am suppose to be at the Happiest Place in the world. If i wasn't choking on how much it cost to be there. If i wasn't dealing with the guilt of all the rest of the world who didn't get to come and my children have come half a dozen times in 3 years. i do ok.
The heat was bearable and i took many food breaks. i think if Disney took more time to incorporate decent food at their stands, they might actually get more older people.

Day Three

Day 3 at Disneyland and after walking the kids out at 10.15pm to watch The Color of Water the night before, after watching the kids all night while husband stayed out till after 12pm -- i suddenly felt entitled to enjoy the day in to myself. Day One was kinda short-circuited because Baby Boy wanted to hang out with me in the afternoon. Having him in a hotel room is like bottling a little jumping bean. Finally yesterday we quarantined him in the bathroom for a good 20 minutes before he stopped babbling incessantly to himself. He wakes up at 6am every morning and runs around, drawing in his sketchbook, bumping us awake. All this while doing full park days.
So this morning, i let the kids go out to breakfast with him. i slept in, watched a heart breaking movie " Nobody's Child", went and fixed my broken nail. Then i wandered down Downtown Disney for lunch, browsed at Sephora, bought eye shadow and had a lovely salad at a New Orleans restaurant. It was lovely to be fussed over -- by the Vietnamese manicurist, by the Sephora salesperson and by two of the cutest waiters brimming with Disneyland friendliness.
Nally asked me what i enjoy the other day and i almost choked having to admit to my recent attacks of anhedonia.
This morning, having the morning to myself, permission because of my husband's night out, a broken nail, a late night excursion putting a sleeping son in a stroller and walking out to watch the color show in a triumphant attempt to be a good sport -- i know what i enjoy. A hard earned day to myself.
It was lovely and i spent the afternoon, blogging while watching In Treatment in the background. Waiting with bated breath until the kids get home -- got to get a Dailey Method DVD workout before then.

More Resilient

i've been taking a new stance with Nally when it comes to her learning.
In Chinese, there is a saying " She does not eat soft, she eats hard "
And i feel like i've spent the last 8 years of Nally's life ensuring that she didn't have mine. i was traumatized by teachers my whole life -- ones that made me stand on chairs, threw books out of the room, etc. i was terrified baby girl would experience the same.
So i interrogated all her teachers, tutors -- whether school, piano, taewondo -- ensuring that it all be child centered, emphatic, wildly entertaining. i make sure we are at Peninsula School after what seemed like a stressful year of school.
But these days, i'm beginning to think she is finally ready for hard ball.
So i attempted a Tiger Mom routine with the times tables. These are something we've been working on since 3 years old -- singing, skip counting. The teacher summed it all up " i have confidence that when Nally decides to learn it, she can do it. She just has to decide to" Her school teacher's comments were " Nally does not persist in frustration and relinquishes tasks when frustrated.
So i decided we are going to embark on what my trade calls " Systematic Desensitization" to failure anxiety. i am going to hold her to the task of learning while she tries to wiggle away.
And oh she wiggles -- when i was trying to get her to learning her 7 times tables, it was like war torture. We dropped pens, we asked for water, we wanted to go to the bathroom, we argued about how scary i was, she cried, sobbed, wrecked herself silly with tears -- while i just gently held her " When you're done crying -- count the numbers on the screen".
Aidan was beside himself. He paced around her. Got her water, picked up all her pencils, finally yelled " I can't do it" and ran to his room and cried.
Then " click" something happened. She suddenly said " show me again how to do the 9 x table trick ? " she said in this sweet voice -- this strategy she had fought off incorporating for the past 2 years, brushed it away, said it didn't work.
i am learning that this is a child that will turn down everything new the first 3 times. Reject. Reject . Reject.
In 5 minutes -- she knew her nines.
As i coached her through her 7 times table in the car on the way to Disneyland -- through all the reports of her brain hurting, how it's such a long car trip, how it's so unfair.
She got it; and i am learning -- just as she whines all night about how her braces hurt and i battle my own fears of her never eating again -- she is more resilient than she lets on.

More Resilient

i've been taking a new stance with Nally when it comes to her learning.
In Chinese, there is a saying " She does not eat soft, she eats hard "
And i feel like i've spent the last 8 years of Nally's life ensuring that she didn't have mine. i was traumatized by teachers my whole life -- ones that made me stand on chairs, threw books out of the room, etc. i was terrified baby girl would experience the same.
So i interrogated all her teachers, tutors -- whether school, piano, taewondo -- ensuring that it all be child centered, emphatic, wildly entertaining. i make sure we are at Peninsula School after what seemed like a stressful year of school.
But these days, i'm beginning to think she is finally ready for hard ball.
So i attempted a Tiger Mom routine with the times tables. These are something we've been working on since 3 years old -- singing, skip counting. The teacher summed it all up " i have confidence that when Nally decides to learn it, she can do it. She just has to decide to" Her school teacher's comments were " Nally does not persist in frustration and relinquishes tasks when frustrated".
So i decided we are going to embark on what my trade calls " Systematic Desensitization" to failure anxiety. i am going to hold her to the task of learning while she tries to wiggle away.
And oh she wiggles -- when i was trying to get her to learning her 7 times tables, it was like war torture. We dropped pens, we asked for water, we wanted to go to the bathroom, we argued about how scary i was, she cried, sobbed, wrecked herself silly with tears -- while i just gently held her " When you're done crying -- count the apples on the screen".
Aidan was beside himself. He paced around her. Got her water, picked up all her pencils, finally yelled " I can't do it" and ran to his room and cried.
Then " click" something happened. She suddenly said " Show me again how to do the 9 x table trick ? " she said in this sweet voice -- this strategy she had fought off incorporating for the past 2 years, brushed it away, said it didn't work. It was like it was night and day and the child had a personality change!

In 5 minutes -- she knew her nines.

i am learning that with Nally it's going to be resistance for the first 3 offers; to not take her "nos" so seriously, to persist when she fights me and to keep hold steady lovingly. She has her mother's aversion to new experiences and her father's propensity for the easy way out. Between that, i've got to do what my mother calls " hold very steady".
As i coached her through her 7 times table in the car on the way to Disneyland -- through all the reports of her brain hurting, how it's such a long car trip, how it's so unfair.
She got it; and i am learning -- just as she whines all night about how her braces hurt and i battle my own fears of her never eating again -- she is more resilient than she lets on.
Or rather i am.

Great talks with Enoch

If there has been a miracle with the recent outburst is that enoch and i have been having great talks, communication not being one of our fortes in this marriage, it's nothing short of God. So i thought i'd write it down, make a memorial stone out of it, just like in the old testament days.

Thank you Jesus that on Tuesday, the holy spirit gave me the wisdom and gentleness to:
-- challenge my husband to trust God instead of M&D to provide for us and secure our future
-- ask him to see my heart in wanting to continue to have a relationship with mom and dad ( but under different circumstances )
-- be really firm and convicted about not accepting any more money from them and for recognizing the sin on my part for accepting the money we did with the house.
-- pointing out how it has really affected our marriage
-- asking him to see that even if i am the problem -- i am HIS problem
-- assure him of my commitment that his children will always get to see their grandparents
-- point out that our money problems are not my parent's problems and that if i "make a mess" running back to them for money is not an option.
-- express my fear of the value "money is an expression of love" and suggest that that might be a language of love his parents use.
-- state clearly that that is a value that i do not intend to perpetuate in our family
-- remain calm, unhurt, unprovoked by many provocative statements
-- point out that he is finally in a position to take on the responsibility to care for our family and that God has given him the resources to do so.

Big house

So i complain so much about the workers coming. Yesterday the flooring guys put the last touches on the kitchen molding. In came the shoes, the sanders, dust and dirt. i complained to God all afternoon mopping for an hour.
Then today, with a full day of quiet with just the girl and me -- it's positively terrifying. Felt a little solace as i swept the leaves and mopped the sunroom.
Miss my neighbors, and enoch has been working everyday and night these days. We've timed it so that he works now and then has time off after my parents leave. But it seems like a bad deal right now.
I've arranged for a slew of visitors while he is away... so i know i'll be fine.
Just displaced without the list of unending errands for the house.
Goes to show you can take a girl out of Singapore, but Singapore out of the girl.

Highlights from the Move

My sense of humor, however slim, has always erred more on the sardonic side rather than the slapstick, betraying my British Singaporean heritage; -- but highlights from the move when i do find it in me to laugh are:
How my husband left the house at 2 am the night before the move, with 2 of his assigned areas unpacked, to print out numbers that he assigned each room of our house with, painstakingly written on the floor plan. He ran out of paper, so he went to Kinkos and came back with an elaborate stack of collated numbers that we had to flip through since the numbers were in sequential order. At 6am, he proceeded to demonstrate how the gorgeous 8.5 by 11 numbers ( printed in Garamond ) had to be stuck onto each box on ALL FOUR SIDES with packing tape so as to not get lost.
So in an effort to let my husband "lead", we started the elaborate task of
1.looking at the floorplan,
2.figuring out which room was which number,
3.flipping through the stack to get the number and then
4.sticking the number on ALL FOUR SIDES on the designated box.
Needless to say that when our movers came at 8.30am our 100+ boxes were only 10% done.
i didn't know whether to laugh or to cry when the Chinese movers looked at me quizzically, "why don't you just write the name of the rooms with a marker?" they asked in Chinese. " i have no idea" practically disowning my husband at that point.
So our move took 8 hours. The movers were wonderful and careful. My husband rushed around packing and labeling while they moved, even bringing over bags and bags of trash and garbage since our new house had a dumpster.( worth an extra hour of moving cost?). i fled to run errands for the contractor at the destination.
But another demonstration of how different we are, and how differently our minds work, when not in midst of my incredulous protests is hysterically funny.
The other image that i'll never forget, ( which i think he thinks is less funny ) is the sight of him polishing the refrigerator. i had mistakenly polished it with utensil stainless steel polish which is NOT good for appliances. And it made a mark on his 2-month-researched fridge. He stands there jumping up and down polishing it.
i laugh -- " honey it's a fridge not a car."
Still researching how to get the stains off.

Natalie and the new House

One of the things i worried most about moving over to the new house was Natalie's response to it. i've heard many a horror story about a toddler reacting poorly to a new environment and rightly so since it is so close to the arrival of her new brother.
But perhaps it's because we took her to it so much during the pre-sale and the remodel, ( despite the dust and junk ), perhaps it's because she LOOOVED her little house the previous owner built for his daughter -- she's taken beautifully to it.
Slept in it the first day, napped beautifully in the day and at night. With all the transitions that week, i could have wept with gratitude. Despite me raising her within hard and fast routines ( her sleep schedule and she still listens to her heartbeat music from birth ) she must have her father's flexibility because it is definitely not from me.
But Natalie takes to her new home like a fish in water. i heard about one of her classmates who howled when the family bought a new TV insisting on the old one.
But the child seems to find her way. i tried to stage the room as similar to her old one. i showed her where her hairclips are kept and her vitamins and her elmo pull-ups and she is quick to go there and get them when i need her to. She climbs into our bed the same way at the old place, insisting that bedtime stories be read from there instead of bedside.
She even loves the new bathtub with the little seat, and the pool like corner shape and the glass walls.
But the thing she loves the most is the yard. And it thrills my heart to see her -- out for hours on end, wandering through the garden and playing at the fountain and the water table. i had boasted about children not needing that much space, since i grew up an apartment baby in squishy singapore, but i guess, hearing her run which i never did at the condo -- just thrills my heart.

Unpacked

As i read my old entries on the house and the remodel, i am so thankful to realize that my fears about not having enough energy to unpack came unfounded.
Mostly due to my mother-in-law whom by the 4 week of "living together" (seeing each other at least 3 times a week ) i was in desperate need of a time-out. We clashed, on all the levels that enoch and i do, on sense of time, priority, speed of working, obstinate immovable points of view and poor boundaries. Add in the fact that i am not "in love" with this woman, by the time i moved into Crescent, i was furious at how her catering to natalie's every whim has made her into a whiner, how i've mopped 3 rooms of the house pregnant and aching and she is picking at one tiny dirt spot in the bathroom, how she insists that we dust and dust and dust before moping ( when i have to convince her that dusting simply throws dust up in the air and down ), how she insisted on cleaning the house BEFORE the movers came in and walked all around with shoes and dirty feet and how she's gotten the gall to tell my contractors what to do without first talking to me.
But all in all, as i look back at how i got the house packed and unpacked, and granted i did do 70% of the work myself with my pregnant, dislocated hip lightning, martyr sadomasochistic Singaporean speed and efficiency -- i know i could not have gone to the house as much as i did without her watching natalie, and the little things do add up to a big ocean, and beggars can't be choosers and that God reminds me to be grateful for whatever she gives me. To thank God for her codependent masochistic tendencies that entice her to show up week after week at our doorstep insisting she can help despite an ornery daughter in law and a grandchild that isn't always pleased to see her.
Thanks mom..... we did get unpacked after all.

Workers Gone

Today, the workers finally leave. It's been 3 weeks since we've moved into our new home. We lived " with them" for one week and in the last 2, had them come periodically. I was quick to realize the inconveniences, they dropped by whenever they felt like it ( like they did in the last 6 weeks) assuming i am home, and when i am -- i cannot rest or leave the house to take natalie places the way i could when we lived away from the house. i also got really sick and tired of mopping every night and blanching every time one of them walked through the front door with their shoes on. When this house was "under construction", there were shoes everywhere, and dust and the workers took over our 3 car garage with their tools and materials and dust. Now even though we've unpacked most of the boxes ( except for enoch's office ), we have still yet to clean the garage which was full of carefully unscrewed and stashed away old lamps and doors etc.
But today, our 3 favorite workers left, doing a list of tiny seemingly insignificant chores ( like make the water pressure higher and exterior door molding, and installing the intercom ) and i felt the same pang i felt when i left Stanford Hospital with Natalie after 3 days of nurses and docs coming into check on me every 5 minutes. It would be nice not to be disturbed and lay down in the afternoon again but with them come this security as with the nurses that we enjoyed twenty-four seven.
But as they pack to leave almost nostalgically and as Juan the painter put on the final touches of "touchup" i am sad to write them their last checks and leave. This house is officially our own, to maintain, to repair to clean.
The cleaners came today for the first time, and it was this huge sign of normalcy. It was like seeing your mom and and hugging her and saying "THANK GOD YOU'RE HERE! NO ONE CLEANS LIKE YOU!" despite my relentless mopping for the last 3 weeks, their brisk and efficient bustling in 3 hours left the house immaculate and me finally convinced that i can sit on the floor.
So with a sigh of relief and at the same time nostalgia, i found myself picking up the hose and watering the plants. Something i haven't done since my parents paid me to do as a teenager for extra allowance. i hated it then, but something about this house has finally gotten enoch and i house proud. i've decided, i really like looking out of the my bedroom window and seeing flowers and trees. enoch's gotten so much pride and satisfaction out of getting the pool's PH levels ready for swimming. i find myself sweeping the garden leaves while watching natalie play at the water table and it's actually relaxing.
Perhaps God might grant me my heart's desire for all of us "whistling while we work" on a Saturday morning after all.

House sold

July 20 2004
We sold our home Lord, over asking Lord,
just like how i begged you, with more than 1 bidder ( 3) and with with enough for us to meet our financial responsibilities.
you far surpass our highest dreams. Despite 5 units on sale at Rosewalk, despite the slowdown in the housing market, despite the fact that a comparable unit was out there for 2 months. Despite despite despite.
You came through Lord, gave us enough to pay mom and dad back, pay closing costs and then some.
Thank you Lord, for this buyer that i've prayed for for a month now. Thank you that you've been faithful despite all my ornery moods, my waning patience, my drifting spirit, my angry outbursts and unloving attitude these weeks. You are steady as a rock, keeping your promises.
Big day Lord,
We sold our house. You sold our home. Lord despite all odds, we just stand in awe. And as i tell my story over and over, i want people to know, and also myself to hear that i promised you Lord whatever is left over Lord goes back to you for the church building fund.