So familiar

This morning, I took the kids to the Asian market nearby to buy some produce.  Each time I go there, I think of my mother.

 

She used to take me to Asian markets when I was a little girl.  And I seem to remember being the only child of the six there for many of the trips.  So in that sense, my experience today didn't seem very familiar.  I was there with two kids in the car cart and one child strapped to me.  

 

The smells are exactly the same: fishy.  It smells horrible.  I could never go there if I was pregnant.  But even the smells make me smile.  My kids held their noses.  I certainly did the same when I was little.

 

My shopping trip with my mom usually ended with a treat like Chocolate Yan Yan or Pocky sticks.  Chocolate Yan Yan was my favorite.  But now that I know what hydrogenated oils are, my kids don't get those.  Sometimes ignorance is bliss, you know?  My poor, deprived children. (Okay, sometimes they get lollipops.  High fructose corn syrup is far less criminal in my opinion.)

I do remember feeling like my mother and I blended in with everyone else there.  We were all Asian.  And when I go to the market now, I still feel like I blend in, even though the Asian in me and my children has been watered down a little (with some wonderfully sweet water).  Sometimes, I want to tell the clerk, "I'm Chinese, you know," just to make sure she knows that I belong there.

 

Mom was a busy working woman, which make her efforts to spend some one-on-one time with her fourth child even more impressive.  Of course, I couldn't fully appreciate the planning and intention of that mother-daughter time until I became a mother of a few children myself.

 

 I was probably seven years old when I wrote and illustrated a little book about going shopping with my mom at "AI HOA."  Clearly it meant something to me.  Clearly she loved me.  And clearly, those hydrogenated oils did some good.

Dumpling

Say the word "dumpling" and my mind instantly travels to my mother's round white kitchen table where I sit with my mother and sisters folding dumplings.

I don't know how young I was when my mother first taught me how to fold dumplings, egg rolls, wontons, and shumai. I was probably no older than ten and Ie Ling was probably too little to be at the table for my first folding experience, but she was there at other folding sessions in later years.

My first dumplings were ugly with uneven pleats and lacking a dumpling's signature half moon shape. My mother's were works of art and perfectly uniform.

We made pot sticker dumplings for after the baby blessing. Zack and Annee joined us at the folding table this time. My dumplings have improved significantly and have more uniformity, but my mother's are still better.

My mother also made chicken chow mein, a cold oriental green bean salad, fried rice, white rice, and green onion pancakes. I made my first and second green onion pancakes on Sunday. They turned out pretty well, but they are harder to make than my mother made it look.

My mother is graceful, efficient, and tireless in the kitchen. It was fun to work with her and watch her do her thing again. Her cooking abilities are only a tiny part of what makes her a wonderful mother.

So Cute

This morning, I put Mi Na down on the floor in our basement to do something (can't remember what) and Stephen sat down next to her and said, "she's so cute." Then he lied down, scooted himself as close as he possibly could to her, and endured her arm flailing and pushes on his face.

This evening, I wiped Stephen's face and he said, "you're so cute." No Stephen, you're so cute.

Do you know what else is so cute? Mei's recent practice of setting up the kid table with napkins, a tablecloth, and a centerpiece.

She grabbed a scrap piece of fabric for the tablecloth, which I think looks beautiful against "araucana teal." The car is the centerpiece, which is funny and so cute. Confession: this was at dinner time. Two days in a row of cereal for dinner. When will I cook for real again?

Steve and I watched Top Chef tonight. I'm totally inspired. I want to have those skills and I want to be in Singapore! Singapore seems like a perfect place to explore. I could practice my Mandarin, but rely mostly on English. I'm in love with the way Singaporians speak English with a slight British accent.

Steve and I went on a three-week tour of Asia when we were newlyweds. The opportunity to go back there seems distant.


Steve is so cute.

Do you remember when I wrote that three kids is not much harder than two? Well, I LIED! What compelled me to write such a falsehood? Was it a miraculous week? Or was it just wishful thinking? I can't remember. Even though it is really hard, we still have some great times together.

It is late and it is always around this time of night that I quote Anne Shirley: "Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it." Yet.