Category Archives: Family

Family: Different Things to Different People

So my friend B invited me over for her son’s 2nd bday party. J and I don’t go to very many kiddie bday parties (like never), mostly bc up until this last year, our closest friends were child-free like us. B was very sweet: she expressed some hesitation about inviting kid-free people to her baby’s bday party, but I said I was happy to go every now and then. I mean, it’s worth a try, dipping the feet into the pool occasionally. Plus, it’s only for a few hours… can’t be that bad. So Sunday came along. J managed expectations from the get go and declined, so that was fine: I went solo. But the last time I was invited by this friend’s place for a party, it was uber swank. She’s Afghan, and I dunno what it is, but I find that some cultures, like Afghan and Persian cultures really glam things up. When I went to her baby shower about seven years ago, I showed up very punctually, wearing casual clothes, i.e. dark jeans. Holy crap, the Afghans run super late, and OMG, I was not only like one of two non-Afghans there, but I felt like I was at a party with the Kardashians… everyone was uber polished and fancy. Yup, it gave me the ugly duckling complex, so this time, I made sure to put in more effort. I wore a dress, and I also arrived 45 minutes after the stated time. As it turned out, I was STILL on the early side, and I think I was the only non-family member there, which was kinda intimidating but everyone was also very welcoming. I met her parents, mom-in-law, brothers, sis-in-law, etc. I’d met all of them at the shower years ago, and man, the moms are so put together also!! Just, classy. I dunno how else to describe it. A lot of times, I feel like my family wears big, baggy, ill-fitted stuff. It’s not that their clothes are cheap, but their outfits rarely fit. But B’s family? Very well-dressed. I had originally anticipated 2 hours, but well, I ended up hanging out for four hours. I had fun catching up with B and her hubby K, with whom I used to work. Of course, their two boys plus two of the boys’ cousins were there, so I had to work especially hard focusing on the adult conversation while the kids were bouncing around on a trampoline and generally going bonkers. Holy crap. There was screaming and crying and then so-and-so hit the other kid. Then shit got unplugged, and wires were tangled. I dunno. It was a fucking zoo. I seriously do NOT know how people handle kids, much less MULTIPLE kids in the same household. Mind blowing for reals.

The interesting thing about all of this though was just that family was clearly so important. The mom-in-law had flown in from the midwest for the bday party. I observed K standing behind his mom with his hands around her neck. Affection, laughter, celebration. The total opposite of time I spend with my family. Maybe I’m comparing their best with my worst, or whatever that comparison game line is. The thing is though, my best is neutral: it’s just times when there’s no disappointment or criticism or sadness. It’s just getting shit done and doing practical things. I guess that’s what happens when you isolate yourself. You lose the skills of communication and connection. As a practicing physician, my father had excellent bedside manner. His patients and colleagues loved him, but I don’t think he really ever learned how to connect with people on a deep, friendship level. Being useful and helpful and full of advice? Excellent. But just cutting loose and hanging out? Never. Completely foreign. I’m sure growing up in this environment of chronic distance and lack of connection is partly what makes me so desensitized to social awkwardness. I mean, hello, welcome to my family. Welcome to every single homecoming, phone call, family gathering. It’s pretty sad, and yet, what can be done. I can only learn from this and apply my knowledge going forward, bc in my family, some things will just never change.

When I was on the phone with my father yesterday, he asked about my job. He asked if I liked my coworkers. I said I was good friends with one person, and the others were fine. I got along with everybody. Then, he started warning me that sometimes people come across nice but then they backstab and sabotage you. I mean, look: I know my father faced racial discrimination. I know he’s seen the bad side of people, especially when, for a period, his office staff had trouble getting along. I’m sure he saw all those awful things that come along with dysfunction. But at the same time, I’m 39. I have my own lifetime of experience, and no matter how fucked up any of my past workplaces have been, I have NEVER had an issue with people. Overall, my work speaks for itself, and I pretty much get along with everybody. Some people frustrate me, but it never gets to the point of deliberate ill-will and malice. Anyway, his whole point going down that path was just another example of the habit of paranoia and fear-based thinking: everyone is out to get you. When I was in school, my parents always insisted that my friends who were doing well were out to topple me from being at the head of the class: Don’t share any secrets, blah, blah, blah. I mean, is it any real surprise that they have no friends?? I just tried my best to nip this convo in the bud by saying “I don’t have that problem.”

I suppose all of this really boils down to a fundamental difference in philosophy. My parents feel that honesty and truth is overexposing and risky, that vulnerability is a weakness. But after years of damaging myself with inadequacies striving for perfectionist ideals, I find that vulnerability is a truth, and while I value strength and resilience and the desire/effort to improve, I also try to minimize feeling shame about all my flaws and foibles. Maybe in some odd way, I feel that my (radical) honesty is what’s unique to me. That’s what I offer to others. And oddly enough, that’s what my parents have always instructed me to hide.

New Programs for June

J and I took a road trip to Santa Barbara last weekend. I actually took Friday off, and it was kinda weird: even though I could feel myself creeping closer and closer to the edge, the three days away somehow quantified just how much I’d let myself stray beyond my “happy” zone. The thing is, all this time, logically, my challenges were pretty straightforward. I already knew what the answer was… or at least, what part of the answer was. Still, for whatever reason, bridging that gap from knowing to doing is just not always easy.

I don’t like to use the word “depressed,” bc I know it’s a medical term that can apply to very extreme cases of mental illness. I don’t want to discredit/dismiss people who suffer from severe depression and who really require external assistance. I know that in many cases, combating depression is not just something people can WILL to change. That said, my recent funk had been going on for some time, where I frequently felt exhausted, lethargic, irritable, and unusually indifferent. I was also having more stressful dreams… I considered going back to therapy.

The weekend getaway helped me refocus on Bubbey and Marty. I mean, I don’t think it’s any real surprise that exercising (especially when you’re out of shape) forces the brain to stop the overthinking and get back to basics. We hiked at Carpinteria State Beach Park and the next day, we rented bikes in Solvang. OMFG, all the huffing and puffing after just a few short minutes really proved to me that fuck, I need to get my shit together!!! Part of me is mad for letting myself get so fucking out of whack. I mean, hell, this ain’t my first rodeo, you know??? I really should know better. But I suppose there’s little point in crying over what’s already done. I have to move forward and make changes to my life. Now.

So today is June 1 . My birthday is a week away, and reflecting on all the people and experiences I have had until now, I want to apply some lessons I have learned. I want to live and act consistently with my values. I know, so many vague hippie dippy words. What does all this mean?

1. Set stronger boundaries with work. I have struggled all my life with drawing this line. It’s complicated but obviously, these habits are tied to how I equate achievements with success and how I identify myself through work. I did minimal work while I was in Santa Barbara. I’ve started carpooling with a coworker in hopes of setting more stringent start/end times to my work day. I am also trying to exercise at lunch. The activity doesn’t have to be intense, but I HAVE to leave my desk and go outside.

2. Exercise. Yes, activity makes all the difference. I’ve witnessed the positive results before with myself (Hello, Fitbit!!), with John, and with Marty. It’s a no brainer. Tracy Andersen arms are coming soon. 🙂

3. Network. Eight months after pulling out of the job market, I can already feel my anti-social tendencies creeping back in. The thing is, I need to continue attending events, not only to keep my hard-earned networking/social skills sharp, but also to find new sources of inspiration. On Wednesday, I’m going to a Lean-In circle meeting in Palo Alto. The topic is social entrepreneurship.

4. Write. This blog is as much for you (ha!) as it is for me. 🙂 Getting some of my thoughts down in writing somehow clears the mental clutter and makes room for more productive and creative thoughts.

I have other things that I’m working on, but four is good for now. Pics below from our weekend getaway.[FAG id=7439]

Hello from Miami

So I took a long break from blogging… yeah, after I bruised my nose from the iPad crashing down on my face, I decided I couldn’t be writing posts half asleep. To be honest, I started writing a long post about friendships (surprise, surprise) and then I just kept wasting time on it, bc I couldn’t seem to get the gist right. For now, I have abandoned the draft, bc I don’t have time to keep reworking it. After all, time’s a tickin’, and as it is, I’m freaking all the way across the country now in Miami.

Quick recap: John’s mom is still in the acute rehab facility. She is doing well. She has her hospital posse going on. For one thing, she shares a room with another lady, and they’re so chatty, they don’t even use the room divider curtain thing for personal privacy! J is still back East. He and his siblings finally convinced the parents to move into a 2 BR apartment within an assisted living community. I know it’s a huge change, and I try to be understanding about it, but I guess I also feel really protective of J. He’s been there now for three weeks, handling everything from cooking meals for his dad, to decluttering, to driving them back/forth to the hospital, to organizing, to now packing and moving. If we thought him working at a startup was exhausting and 24/7, this eldercare shit is no. fucking. joke. And incidentally, J comes from a family of chatterboxes, so for an introvert who needs his recharge quiet time, all the human interaction is draining even if his threshold for family is high. He’s been amazing, and they are so lucky to have him willing and able to help.

I really hate to be one of THOSE people crying over spilled milk (or is it spoiled milk), but Jesus Christ. So much of this chaos could have been minimized. For YEARS, J and his siblings broached these difficult topics of aging with the parents. From asking them to consider cleaning services and food delivery, to setting up health directives and wills, to using a cane/walker, to thinking about moving out of their split level home… And yet every single time, their good intentions were met with anger and frustration and resistance. I’m a stubborn person. I understand that when I think I’m right, I don’t want to be bullied into changing my mind. But I dunno. There’s just something about the lack of awareness/self-perception and consequently, the denial and refusal that tries my patience, and I’m not even involved in any of the conversations. Fuck, man. It sounds so frickin’ hard. No wonder Bubbey’s EQ and people skills are “world-class.” I would have lost my shit a million times over.

The good news is that things are finally in motion, regardless of how the cascade of events was triggered. They move on Friday, and Bubbey returns one week after that. Yes, he is going to need a major vacation after all this. Interestingly, as all of this has gone down, I have been telling my parents: figure your shit out bc otherwise, I am going to just come in and bulldoze. I mean, I’m giving them fair warning. And hell, they KNOW I have zero patience, so that’s that. If you don’t figure it out ahead of time, I’m calling all the shots. If you want slow-moving indecisive bullshit, go call on my brother. Doh!!

As for my grandfather, he has graduated from in-home (visiting) physical therapy sessions. The therapists now say he has to go to a local facility with more equipment, bc the daily household exercises are just too easy for him. Yup, my Yebbie is crazy athletic. Did I even tell you? On like the second day after he moved in with my parents, my father found gramps downstairs in the basement, trying out the brand new elliptical machine I had bought my parents in February. Homeboy like made his own way down the stairs and climbed on the equipment. My dad was like, “Hold on, here. You can’t be getting on this thing just yet. You just got home from rehab!!” Yeah man. Yebbie is on the move and cannot be stopped. Thank goodness my parents confiscated his car keys, bc gramps was looking for his keys as soon as he got out of the hospital. Fucking fugitive.

What else. Oh, I had lunch with the boss to celebrate my six months on the job. My actual anniversary date was 4/20, so while I was prepping my bullet points for the conversation (outlining my accomplishments and list of requests/demands), I imagine much of the rest of CA was busy smoking pot. Haha. Yeah, I got all decked out in my power dress too. We had a good conversation. I talked about my challenges, the work load, what I like/dislike… and then I launched into it. But before I was even able to rattle off my items, she stopped me and said she already put in for an increase. It’s not going to be a boost like they do in the corporate world, but it will be within what the institution can do. So now we wait to see if her boss gives the green light. At the time, I was pretty pleased to hear this, but in retrospect, I feel like I should have pressed for details, like how much and what’s the timeline and can it be retroactive. Fucking A. This shit always comes to me AFTER the situation is over. Ah well. Guess I’ll just wait and see.

Meanwhile, the latest newbie is like stressing out every damn day. I mean for sure, she is hypersensitive and perfectionist. She admits this. As a former neurotic stressball myself, I get it: I used to be super reactive about EVERYTHING. Thankfully, in my old age and with the help of Bubbey, I have really chilled the fuck out. And I suppose my last job also gave me lots of practice with the constant disruptions and crisis mode bullshit. The thing with my coworker is that she’s having trouble adjusting and rather than internalize like I do (or I blab to my friends), she has to talk it out like then and there, so she just barges in and dumps it all… which is fine (this ain’t my first rodeo), but don’t expect me to join in escalating that shit, you know? I mean, I know some people are just all about the drama: I have been friends with people like that; I have worked with people like that. It’s ridiculous: every single thing is some kind of personal affront. The truth is, people are NOT that aware. Seriously, people are clueless dumb fucks. I know bc I’m sometimes one of those people wandering about the world, unintentionally cutting people off on the highway, saying nothing at all or something abrupt to a coworker walking down the hall bc I’m preoccupied with something else. But really, contrary to what my mother insisted while I was growing up, not every person is like deliberately trying to thwart you/me. And then beyond that, some people are just chronically frenzied. Like my current boss is perpetually frantic. You have to just understand that SHE is kinda all over the place. That said, not everything she brings to your attention is urgent and immediate. She’s just sharing to put the ball in your court, but you can determine the priority and handle it on your schedule. Anyway, I was trying to express this to my coworker. I felt like past coworkers had also shared this observation with me. But she doesn’t seem convinced. She wants to read it like a personal attack. So fine. Whatever. Go get yourself bent out of shape about it.

Fast forward: Now I’m in Miami for a social media conference. I flew in yesterday, and originally, I had all these grand plans to have people join me and share the swanky hotel room. My bud N was interested, but she had just recovered from back surgery and needed to head back to work. My friend M had some mandatory training at work. Bubs was stuck in MD. And then my other friends are now mothers. But hell, I am a determined beotch, so my hopes weren’t to be foiled. I called up my college buddy J and made the offer. Like with one week’s notice. Granted, J is a planner. He’s not an impulsive or frivolous person, so I fully expected a rejection. But whatdya fucking know? It’s a short, quick trip, but heck, he’s doing it and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Thursday night to Saturday lunch. I’m telling you, even friends you think you have completely figured out: they can still surprise you. I think Bubbey thought we were gonna have separate rooms, but I mean, that defeats the purpose of the free hotel stay!! Duh. Bubs is ok but not super thrilled. Whatever, man. J and I went to college together. He dates back pre-Bubbey even. Actually, I met J my sophomore year (same dorm) and John that summer. So it’s close, but these are silly irrational fears. John knows him, we’ve traveled together, and fuck man, I’m going to be wearing my organic cotton PJs– yes, the ones that look like a concentration camp uniform. In my defense, many years ago, J went solo to a friend’s wedding, and he shared a room with his ex. The thing is, we all have irrational fears. I refuse to let them paralyze me. Bottom line: if Bubs gives me his word, I choose to believe him. And the same goes for him. Heck, my word is even stronger than his, so trust, baby!

Me Time to the Max

So Bubbey is still back East. He has been doing EVERYTHING there. His mom is still in the rehab hospital: she’s making decent progress with variations day to day, which is probably to be expected. The therapists indicated that she and my FIL are not suited to continue living on their own. Naturally, that triggered a cascade of events and lengthy conversations. J, his sister, and dad scouted out facilities and checked availability. At the same time, nearly each of the five kids individually chipped away at the parents, who adamantly refused to believe the necessity of this next step. After two weeks, they put down a deposit on a place. All the while, J is continuing daily trips to the hospital, meal prep for dad, de-cluttering, organizing, and now packing for the move. Eldercare is no fucking games. Looking back, I dunno what either of us were thinking. In our minds, we had some idea that we would be next to a sleeping patient, and we’d be able to crank out a shit ton of work. In reality, the patients were unruly and/or chatty and required constant attention.

I’m doing ok holding down the fort at home. Marty is getting particularly sticky again, but the good news is that he really is full of energy. For once in a really long while, I feel like I can at least stop worrying about Marty and his mortality. For now.

College Night

My boss frequently touts the events and activities on campus. She says being with the students gives her renewed energy and enthusiasm. Spoken like a true parent, right? Supposedly, kids keep you young and in touch. I’m skeptical but whatever I’m all about extracurricular activities. To date, I have attended a half dozen or so events, and fuck man, afterwards I always leave there depressed as hell. This past week, I attended “College Night” at the museum on campus. The concept was a museum open house with artsy crafty activities like henna tats and block prints (lithograph-style) plus live music, dance performances, a Capella, etc. I bumped into three of my interns while there. One intern practically showed up in her PJs. I know, it’s college living where everything blends together. I also saw someone else wearing a dress I own from Target. It’s a romper I bought a few years back. Perhaps it’s no longer age inappropriate for me. Overall, the evening was just a really weird experience of feeling out of place and disconnected. Not that these feelings are at all foreign to me. Certainly, I am very conditioned to uncomfortable and awkward moments. I don’t let them deter me. Still, I left feeling a tinge of regret. Why didn’t I have more fun when I was in school? Also, how the hell was college fucking 20+ years ago??? I know I’m not an old crusty just yet, but I feel sad for the lost time… the time that was squandered and is gone forever. Usually, I try not to focus too much on regret and things in my past. It really is pointless, wasted energy bc nothing there can be changed. But when I do occasionally indulge in this kind of destructive reflection, fuck man, I lost so many years to bad skin and freaking neuroses from hell. Thankfully, I have a new life now, an active and vibrant one, but the years ahead feel so numbered. I dunno why I feel so pessimistic. I mean, whatever happened to gratitude and embracing the present, right?

I guess having this whole past month focused on the oldies and eldercare just makes me overthink more than usual (imagine that!). I really need to proactively fight against turning into a depressed, isolated, inactive, and hermetic old person. Note to self, goddamnit.

So anyway, I left the bash and arrived home about 10p. I called Bubbey to lament further. It was 1a back East, so naturally, he fell asleep on me mid-conversation. However, he did manage to leave me with one thought. He assured me that there are more good times ahead for us. Just look at Marty. He is having the time of his life, and he is an uber oldie. So true. I need to chill the fuck out and stop wallowing in this ridic pool of self pity. 

On a positive note, I started up my 7 min workout this week. After 35 cumulative minutes on this program, I am already feeling the difference in my arms. Haha. Yuppers, Hercules is making a comeback!

Update on the Oldies

Last week, John’s mom went to the emergency room. She was feeling unusually week Friday morning, and she started dragging her left leg. The symptoms seemed to suggest a stroke, but the doctors were reluctant to say. She was admitted, and then she underwent about three days of tests. Even though John had just recently returned from the East Coast, he flew out again Monday morning, while doctors continued working up the tests. The final diagnosis? A mild stroke. I have to say, our United frequent flyer points have saved our asses SO MANY times in similar medical situations. Last minute tickets are ridiculous. Seriously, like on Sunday, we were looking for first flights out the next day, and the fares were like $1300 RT for a flight that normally costs less than $350. The thing is, this late in the game, doesn’t it make more sense for the airlines to lower the prices? I dunno. After our scare last month with my grandfather, I spent some time understanding the situation with last minute flights for medical reasons. At most, airlines offer just a 10% discount. That whole system feels so backwards and unhelpful. Needless to say, to plan for the future when shit like this will likely keep happening, I’m consolidating our expenditures onto the United credit card. Banking those points, baby!

Anyway, not to obsess over money shit during medical crises… my MIL is doing really well. After the diagnosis, she was transferred to an acute rehabilitation hospital. In fact, she went to the same one where my gramps was staying! On the morning of her admittance, J actually ran into my dad and grandfather exercising and walking around in the lobby!! My MIL is expected to stay in the rehab facility until the end of the month. Like my grandfather, she’ll be clocking in several hours a day of physical, occupational, and speech therapy. And similar to what we have already witnessed with Yebbie, the daily physical and social stimulation is making a huge difference in boosting progress. Every time I speak with him on the phone, he is mentally more and more lucid. With my grandmother too, over the last month the daily habit of going back and forth to the hospital and talking with my parents has given her renewed mental alertness. I am so pleasantly surprised by this discovery: with more interaction and physical activity, everyone is sharper and more lucid across the board. Yup, I am taking notes (and starting up Lumosity again)!

Gramps was discharged a few days ago. Despite our attempts to get him to a subacute rehab hospital near my parents’ home, those options fell through, and he and grandma moved in with my parents on Wednesday. I purchased a few items like a special commode, tub handle, and tub bench, to help my grandfather get around there. He is getting stronger day by day. The only thing is, he scarfs down his food like crazy. Dad is always worried Yeb will choke himself. I suppose a month of liquid and/or hospital food will really change your perception of food!

Also last week, my grandfather in Taiwan went to the hospital. Walking up the stairs, he was experiencing shortness of breath. He has emphysema and in the past, he had several stents put in. The doctors ran some tests, and everything checked out ok this time. Gramps is back home now.

I swear to god, these oldies are killing me!!!

Parenting Phobia

For Easter Sunday, J and I were up in San Leandro hanging out with our buds J&J, who are new parents. We played with the baby, caught up on work/life balance struggles, ate, drank, and played mahjong. At some point in the conversation, we talked about preparing wills and medical directives and such. And I came to realize that months ago, when my bud J asked me about being their child’s godparent, I DID read his request correctly. At the time, I interpreted the request as serving as the child’s guardian should anything happen to him and his wife. I tried to acknowledge the honor of being asked, and I tried to stress how much we valued their friendship. But the thought of being a parent really freaks me out. If I really consider my history, an upbringing full of stability and security and yet so laden with stress to achieve and perform and meet expectations… Couple that with multiple examples in my family and extended family of parenting gone horribly wrong, plus the realization that I was essentially already a parent to my brother while we were both at Duke, I have an indescribable fear and loathing for trying to care for or guide someone who ultimately has his/her own mind. I don’t think my brother ever acted with malice, but he most certainly remains selfish, and he understands the power of influence/manipulation. He also is entitled and is particularly prone to  the lure of “get rich” style schemes or claims where people insist a product or person or religion worked magic on their lives.

I myself have a gullibility and fascination with finding products or strategies to improve my life, but I also have a very analytical side that really wants to understand how things work. That often saves me from being duped (fingers crossed) by schemes that somehow attract my brother. Anyway, the point is, I am a control freak, and the uncertainty of parenting forbids me from wanting to be a parent. Needless to say, I wigged out when my friend asked, and I declined.

Related: Sometimes people ask me, “What if you were to get pregnant today? What would you do?” Without hesitation, abort. There isn’t a single ounce of me that wants to take that shit on. I’m “unnatural” that way, as my mother has said.

So after our day with our friends, on the drive home, John brought up the guardian thing again. First, he was surprised that I had declined when I was asked weeks ago. They had actually first asked when they were preggers. I said no. I didn’t even consult or discuss with Bubs, bc you know I’d be doing the bulk of the work (just saying). I explained to Bubs that my reply (of no) was consistent with before. John argued that in one case, the question was technically hypothetical, bc the baby wasn’t yet born. Now, the baby is here. He also made some comment like life isn’t always about what YOU want; sometimes you do things you don’t want, bc that’s the right thing to do. Well, shit. I’m not about to be accused of NOT doing the “right” thing!! Then, he proceeds to say, if we really believe our close friends are the “family we choose for ourselves,” family would take in the orphaned child. Yeah, then I started driving crazy on 880, bc now I was totally preoccupied with this conversation. I like cut someone off, and J made some comment about my driving. Look dude. You know I can’t be having this heavy-ass conversation WHILE I am driving. WTF?????

The thing is though, J brings up some solid points. I guess I just have some expectation like they should ask family, or if not family, they should ask their friends who are already parents, bc those people are experienced and shit. The bottom line is, parenting scares me. As much as I have struggled with how my parents parented, there are times in my life, where I unknowingly carried forth their framework. I’ve blogged about it before: how I had so many expectations for John; how I loved him with conditions; how things he did were never good enough; how there was always so much room for improvement… these concepts drive me to be better, and yet they have also broken me so many damn times, bc I have fallen short of what I or he was supposed to be. Absolutely, I would be a Tiger Mom. I wouldn’t know how to relax and let the child just be a child. I would be the source of so much anxiety and paranoia. Those fucking genetics/cultural influences are just too freaking strong. And then J and I would clash with our parenting styles and philosophies… Sure, I’m responsible, dependable, and resourceful, but that’s just not enough. And on top of that, I don’t want to be a parent. So I suppose J and I continue to waffle on this. J points out that it is a way to honor our friends. They want peace of mind that their treasure will be cared for. J says circumstances are unlikely to necessitate this role for us. To me though, the probability doesn’t diminish what a huge deal this is. Now obviously, we’re not going to just stand by and watch kid go on to be orphan Annie or anything… But should we be the first choice? I just still have my reservations and phobias.

April Distractions

So Bubbey returned from his East Coast trip on Monday night. Every time I go to get anyone from the airport, I always head up too early. Yes, I use the flight tracker, but I still arrive about 20 min too early. Happens every damn time, and I end up circling around the terminals really slowly, trying to avoid the parking nazis.

While hubs was away, I really enjoyed my me time, but I was also very happy to have Bubbey home again. The remainer of the week was ho hum The new academic quarter started up again with the kids returning from spring break, and of course, on social, we had to state the obvious:  welcome back from spring break, Happy April Fool’s, Good Friday, Passover, Easter, blah, blah.

Thankfully, we had Friday off. I lived it up with a bike ride and hike at Deer Hollow Farm with T. Always great to hang with a person who has a nice laid-back approach to things. He is really enjoying retirement, and dayum, I need to start exercising my lazy ass, bc T is in super duper shape with an intense regimen of TRX, raquetball, kayaking, biking… Yeah, I was pretty much huffing and puffing the whole damn time. Ridic.

In the evening, I met up with K. We scoped out an acapella concert put on by a touring men’s group from Oxford University. I had gone to a college acapella competition a few years back at Berkeley, so I was expecting something very similar. Nope, totally different. I could have sworn my friend was jonesing to get the hell out of that high school auditorium, jam packed with swooning high school girls getting all up in the grill of these college (gay) heartthrobs. The weird thing is, in my head, I had a totally different expectation for how/what these guys would look like: goddamn, these boys were soooo young looking. Surely when I was in college, the boys looked more mature than this!?!?! Overall, the music didn’t really captivate me. While I knew most of the songs, nothing really compelled me to get up and groove. On the contrary, I did leave there feeling inspired to work on my karaoke singing!

Actually yeah, one kid did really win me over with some amazing beat boxing at the end. Shiiit, if only I had rhythm, I would be all over that, adding it to the bucket list and all. But at this point in my life, I know my limits. Karaoke is the best I can hope for in the music category. Beatboxing ain’t gonna happen. Like ever.

I finally got ahold of my grandfather today. My parents have been really bad about calling me during the day, and whenever I call the room, no one ever answers the darn phone. Anyhow, he’s doing well. He still sounded a little confused about where he was and what had happened to him, but physically he is gaining strength and eating by mouth. Unfortunately, Dad said there was some discharge coming out of his G-tube, so doctors are worried there might be an infection in that area. Even though he is eating by mouth and not using the g-tube, you can’t remove it until 6-8 weeks after insertion. Something about the tract internally needing to seal so there isn’t leakage…

My dad sounds insanely tired, and for some reason, my mom is staying at the rehab hospital overnight. My grandfather has been unruly, ripping tubes out and such, but still. What can they do for him overnight, while they themselves are exhausted and resting? My father says both grandparents are going to move back home with them after the rehab, but I’m skeptical. I mean, seems like the house would have to have some retrofitting, and my parents would need to hire someone with physical strength to help my grandparents get around. I dunno. Every time I bring it up with my dad, he says they have to first see how things progress. Personally, I think there needs to be a better plan with contingency options, but maybe my parents will also have to gauge their own capacity with providing eldercare. Just in case, I think I will have to do some research about transportation and physical assistance.

I have to say, my mind feels so cluttered these days. I am really sruggling with trying to stay motivated at work. Thank goodness for my peeps at the office. Good people definitely play into the overall equation.

First Free Weekend

This is my first free weekend in a very long time: no online class, no traveling, no family drama. Bubbey is back in Maryland handling errands for his parents, and I am just living on my own schedule. I stayed up super late on Friday night putzing around, and then this morning I woke up late. I went into Unabomber mode, and did some reorganizing/cleaning followed by a tiny bit of work. In the afternoon, I took Marty for multiple walks at the park, which was chock full of kids and parents playing baseball and soccer and such. Goddamn, do parents these days really go to EVERY SINGLE ballgame? Whatever happened to just dropping the kids off?

When I got hungry, I decided to kill two birds with one stone by hitting up the Costco for some ingredients for the week, plus chicken salad for lunch. I then watched a relationship movie called “The Last Kiss.” Certain relationship films, I like to watch over and over. I’ve seen this one maybe two or three times, but each time I definitely pick up new observations. In another life, I probably should have earned a psychology degree. I’m just fascinated with the complexities of relationships and connections. I’m not a fan of Zach Braff, but the movie hit on a lot of interesting themes: attraction, emotional/physical needs, attention, stress, midlife crises, self sabotage… There’s a part too where the daughter is super quick to judge and place blame within her parents’ marriage. Her mother responds angrily, “Don’t even try to act like you have any clue about what goes on in a 30-year long relationship.” I saw myself in that scene. So many times I have criticized my parents’ marriage and/or the way they have parented.

In the early evening, my Google Shopping Express order arrived. This time I tried out the booze delivery. Yup, I recently discovered that GSE delivers for BevMo, so I got two bottles of Unruly Red. After I poured myself a glass and made my Costco chicken salad sandwich, I sat back and just enjoyed my quiet me time. After the evening news, I indulged in some solo karaoke. Yup, I am back to training up on that shit. Overall, what an awesome day! The only missing activity was rollerblading. I’ll have to get to that later. Meanwhile, I have a new appreciation for a free, unplanned day. It was pretty fricking relaxing and luxurious!

Belly Full of Bile

Ever since my blowup with mom on Saturday, I’ve been carrying around a belly full of bile. I was just feeling so damn angry. Angry with my mother’s co-dependency. Angry with her helplessness. Angry with her inaction. Angry with how my parents’ parenting has enabled Johnny to be flakey and unreliable. The night I flew into SFO at 2a, my dad left a voicemail and email, stressing out that he had booked my brother’s second flight and misspelled the name on the itinerary. Could I fix it? Jesus Christ. I was just in the air for five hours. Get Johnny to call in about HIS own fucking flight!!

Thankfully, when I called my father back, he said he did get Johnny to call, and it was all handled. The next day, my boss told me to work from home to prep the social media debrief/stats from the campaign last week. I worked on it, but all day, I was still feeling so much rage towards my mother. By evening, John could tell I was shutting down. We talked about what was bothering me. I was just so frustrated and mad about her lack of self-sufficiency. I went off on an entire tirade about her foibles. And then John observed that I was applying my own personality traits and strengths onto my mother. He emphasized that just bc these things are within my capacity doesn’t mean they are within hers. Do you think she does this out of malice? Would you be angry with someone who is handicapped? I argued that this isn’t a handicap. She used to be a very smart and accomplished woman. Now she has no survival skills. But she is surviving, he said. Just not the way you think she should.

And then I felt awful. I always say that rhythm is the bane of my existence, but actually I have two banes. Rhythm is definitely one of them. Expectations is the other. Growing up, I constantly struggled with the expectations of my parents, of my extended family (Chinese culture), and of myself. Throughout my life, I have frequently felt not good enough. And in areas where I actually did feel confident, my mother always judged my choices. The irony is that today I realized I have been judging my mother for her choices. And I call myself a feminist. I felt such a strong repulsion, bc I would never select her choices for myself, and I was totally imposing all my values of self-reliance and getting shit done onto her. This was an interesting epiphany, and all last night, I thought about how I’d been so harsh and unforgiving and yes, impatient as she had claimed.

This morning after I settled back in at work, my boss came by to see how I was doing. I said I was doing fine, but that I had had a meltdown with my mother during my trip. And then the tears just started coming. Fucking A. My poor boss. Goddamn, she has had me break down on her now like three times in the last ten days. Who knows what I rambled: mother daughter issues and a lot to do. Blah, blah.

Later this morning, my father called. Grandpa is doing really well. Last night, he ripped out the NG tube, but other than that, in the morning he was able to prop himself up. He also was able to get up with help and use the toilet. I spoke with him on the phone even, and he is responding. I felt so much relief. Then I told my dad that I was glad he delegated the ticket change to my brother. My brother may not execute tasks with the same urgency and approach we do, but it’s still better to delegate where ever possible. Dad can’t do it all. Not now, at 70 years old. I then spoke with my mother and apologized for losing my shit with her. She said she had already forgotten the incident, and that she knows I always do things with good intention. For now, I am letting go of the anger, and I’m trying to practice acceptance… at least until the next blowup!! Haha.